Why Not Live Again?
by Misery Adams
Summary: Clary is from a world where you need to fight to be heard, to be noticed. Jace is from a world where you're heard even when you don't want to be, and you're never truly alone. Suck at summaries. READ! Rated T - Mild language. ALL HUMAN No Shadow Hunters
1. Chapter 1: The Meeting

**I do not own the rights to these characters, they were all created by the ever-awesome Cassandra Clare. However this particular story is of my creation. SO enjoy.**

**CHAPTER ONE**

Okay so this is the first chapter of Clary and Jace's journey. I am not sure how long I will carry it one for, but I hope you all enjoy. This is my first FanFic story, so don't forget to give me your opinion :)

**CLARY'S POV**

"It's one thing to accuse my friend of stealing," my eyes narrowed, "but it's a whole other thing to accuse _me_ of asking him to do it."

His eyes widened at my aggressive stance. Moving back slightly, he put his hands up in mock surrender. "Whoa, easy now." He looked between me and the boy I'd shifted behind me. "All I said was I _thought_ I saw you tell him to steal it, I never said anything for sure."

"Well you certainly put the idea in his head, now didn't you?" I gestured absently to the shopkeeper who was standing a few feet away, arm crossed over his chest. For reasons I couldn't fathom, he seemed amused.

The man sighed. "Look,"—he turned his body toward the shopkeeper—"I was wrong in my assumption, I should not have accused these two..." I could practically see him swallowing his pride. "...of thieving from your store."

Feeling satisfied, I nodded at him and turned to face the shopkeeper. The man was large, likely over 6 feet and had shoulder the width of a linebacker. He also had a huge smirk on his face.

"Look, it's just a little sucker, barely 10 cents, not enough for you guys to take 20 minutes of my time for this debate." He blew out a breath that smelled heavily of tobacco. I tried not to cringe. "Listen, how about you three just leave and then the problem will leave with you, OK?" Without another word, the shopkeeper tightened his apron and moved to his counter, where a few annoyed customers stood waiting.

Once the shopkeeper was out of earshot we continued glaring at each other.

"Uh Clary?"

The voice took me out of and tense state, looking away from the guy I turned to look at my best friend Simon Lewis. "Ya Simon?"

He held a mixture of shock and embarrassment on his face. His deep brown eyes looked curiously from the shopkeeper to his accuser—who was still standing silently in front of us. "Can we just go back to your house? I don't want my mom hearing about this and I'm sure you don't want Luke to find out."

That made my anger deflate quickly. I was supposed to be home over thirty minutes ago, as I'd promised Luke I wouldn't miss dinner. Luke was my stepfather, he married my mother last year after she'd awoken from a coma that she'd been in since I was little. After a terrible car crash that had taken my father from me, Luke had taken care of me during my mother's entire hospital stay. He's really been the only father I've ever known. And I hated disappointing him.

"Okay." I gave one last parting glare to the guy who was watching the entire exchange silently. "We can probably catch the seven o'clock bus if we go quickly."

Not bothering to say one more word, I hooked my arm with Simon's and we rushed out of the store. The bus stop was still a few blocks over and we had less than two minutes.

"Shit!" I breathed, leaning forward and resting my hands on my knees. Simon and I watched the lights from the bus travel around the corner. "When's the next one?"

Breathing heavily, Simon pushed up his glasses and squinted at his watch. "Not for another...thirty-five minutes..." He gave me a sheepish look.

I growled slightly. If hadn't had to deal with that guy in the shop we never would have missed the damn bus. Just thinking about him made my hand curl into fists.

Then a car honking took me out of my reverie.

"Hey, do you guys need a ride?"

My hands tightened. Looking up I couldn't help but glare at the guy. Of course it was him. "Screw off." I muttered.

Simon looked at me in shock. "Clary, he's offering us a _ride_." He said it as if it were the holy grail.

"Ya so? Without him we never would have even _been_ in this mess!" My whisper turned into a shrill.

The guy cleared his voice. "I can hear you."

My eye flashed at him and held his. His eyes looked like they were a light shade of brown but I couldn't be sure in the dimly lit street. "What's your point?" I could feel Simon shift uncomfortably beside me. I wasn't usually this rude to strangers, but this one really pissed me off.

"Listen, I am sorry I accused you two of stealing." His tone seemed genuine. "And as a way of peace offering, just let me get you two where you need to go, it's the least I can do." He held my gaze, and for a moment I forgot Simon was standing only a foot to my side. Then I blinked and reality set in.

"No thanks," I said pertly, straightening to my full five foot three. I pushed my red hair from my face when a sudden gust of wind blocked my sight. "My friend and I don't want anything from you."

Simon cleared his voice.

I turned to look at him, almost forgetting he was there. "What?"

"If I may..." He gestured towards the car.

I shrugged in reply.

Looking uncomfortable, Simon moved towards the car. "I believe what my friend is trying to say is, yes, we would love a ride."

Opening my mouth, I was about to say something before Simon unceremoniously covered it with his large hand. I growled but both Simon and the guy ignored me. When I bit Simon's palm, hard, he quickly took it away but gave me a stern look that clearly stated "Behave."

Crossing my arms over my chest I grudgingly walked towards the car, pointedly ignoring the driver. But when I attempted to get into the back seat with Simon, I noticed there was no room. The was a pile of bags covering an entire seat by themselves.

Crap.

Simon gave me a shrug and I glared at him. Moving to the right, I roughly opened the door to the front passenger seat. The guy watched me as I shifted into the seat and took it heavily, stomping my feet on the mat to get the water off, and perhaps some of my annoyance.

"My name's Jace," the guy said, extending a hand that he eventually realized I wasn't going to acknowledge. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the guy grin slightly as he dropped his hand and pushed his car into drive. Then he looked back at me, eyebrow slightly raised. "So, where to?"

**So what do you think?  
>Review if you like and review if you don't! I'd love to hear all of your opinions!<strong>

**The Next chapter is coming soon, it will be longer than this one :)**


	2. Chapter 2: Two Worlds

**Chapter 2**

Okay, so I was bored and wrote this next chapter up a little quicker than I initially expected to. This one is now going to be Jace's point of view. Hope you like it!

**JACE'S POV**

I could tell she was uncomfortable. I think that was one of the reasons the grin just wouldn't drop from my face. I looked at her again from the corner of my eye. She was sitting tensely, small hands fisted in her lap, eyes straight ahead, a curtain of thick red hair shadowing half of her face.

Someone cleared their voice.

"So, if you just turn left on the next street..." my backseat passenger said.

Nodding, I followed his directions. Other than the odd comment about the weather that was painfully forced, the car remained silent. After ten minutes, you could cut the tension with a very dull blade.

"Okay, I just have to say it, this is a _sick_ car," Simon said, I could practically see him salivating in my rear-view as he petted the leather seats.

"Thanks, but it's not mine," I stated.

"Who's it belong to?"

"My father," I said a little too sharply. I felt my jaw clench at thoughts of my father.

"Does your radio work?"

I looked up in surprise. This was the first thing Clary's said to me since she'd gotten into my car. She was eyeing me, obviously annoyed, but also a little curious. "Uh ya, you just need to turn it on," I replied dumbly.

She rolled her dark green eyes; the freckles splashed over her cheeks became visible for a small second as we drove under a street lamp. For the fifth time that night I wondered how old she was.

"Do you have a preference?" she asked, the tone of tramped in politeness making her question sound less sarcastic.

I grinned slightly. "Anything but Justin Beiber."

She looked at me for a moment and I could have sworn I'd seen the traces of a smile.

"I think I can manage that." As she focused on the dial I could see another smile skirt her lips.

Half paying attention to the road and half to her small hand turning the dial, I barely noticed when she settled on a station playing old 70s rock. When she saw me watching her, she gave me a curious look that said, "Is this alright?"

I nodded slightly, and tapped my fingers on the steering wheel, holding the beat to the song.

"My mother grew up on this music." She seemed to murmur this more to herself than anyone else. I watched as she rested her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, her small finger relaxed out of their fists and she slowly patted her thigh to the rhythm of the song.

In that moment, she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen.

"Turn right on the next street," Simon's voice said from behind me, cutting through my reverie.

I turned my attention back to the road. It was nearly twenty after seven and it felt like time had flown. Though, I guess twenty minutes isn't a lot of time to begin with, but you know what I mean.

"So..." I began awkwardly, "have you guys lived here all your lives?"

Simon answered first. "Clary's lived here longer than me, I moved here only four years ago. But feels like forever ago."

I could see Clary smile at Simon's last comment. "You just say that 'cause you're not used to living a meter away from your neighbours."

Simon sighed. "Well, when one grows up surrounded by tree's it gets a little frightening when you move here and instead of tree's standing three feet away from your window, you have a homeless man asking if you have any smokes."

I choked on my laugh, and eyed the boy skeptically in my re-view mirror. "Did that actually happen to you?"

"Ya! Just ask Clary, she was there!"

My front seat passenger snorted. "Simon, first, the man wasn't homeless, and second, he was at your front door asking for directions."

I hid my smirk at Simon's perplexed expression. Clearly her reply wasn't what he'd expected..

"Well, he seemed like the cold-blooded killer type to me!" he said indignantly, trying to save face.

"Sure he did." Clary rolled her eyes and turned her green eyes on me. "So, have _you_ ever experienced the perils of a man asking for directions?"

I shrugged. "Sadly, I have never had the privilege."

Simon poked me in the shoulder, a doubtful look on his face. "Even _I_ know that you can't live in this kind of city without having at least a _few_ scares."

I shrugged again, starting to feel uncomfortable. "I live in an apartment, I'm too high off the ground to have peepers at my window, unless you count window cleaners," I added jokingly.

Simon laughed, but Clary was watching me curiously. She looked as if she were about to say something when Simon said, "It's the last house on the left."

It was time to say goodbye. Realising this, I also realised I wasn't ready. But I didn't know what to say—so I kept silent.

"Well this is us," Simon stated needlessly as he surged out of the vehicle, a spring in his wide gait. I hadn't realised how tall he was until this moment.

"Hey," Clary said, her voice low, "thanks for the ride, Jace."

I loved the way she said my name, with a mixture of caution and curiosity.

"No problem." I stopped her before she stepped out of the car. "Listen, I really am sorry for accusing you of stealing."

She frowned for a moment then shrugged. "I've had worse." With that, she shut my door and followed Simon to the door, opened it, took one last look at me, then closed it slowly behind her.

I sat there for a few more seconds before turning the ignition. I really was sorry about the accusation. It was dumb in the first place, just a stupid prank that my asshole friends liked to play. We would go to a store, they would pick an unsuspecting victim and whoever's turn it was had to walk by and drop something into that persons bag without them noticing.

My buddies always thought it was funny. I didn't. I had managed to avoid doing it for a long time, but for some reason today they really pushed me into it. They had picked out Simon easily, with his lanky body and wired glasses.

I felt bad for the kid, personally. That's why when I dropped the stolen item in his bag, it was only a ten cent sucker. I hadn't noticed the girl, Clary, until she came like a raging bull out of nowhere after my buddy had told the shopkeeper he'd seen Simon stealing. As an afterthought, my friend Alec had added Clary's name into the accusation.

I hadn't said a word. Just stood there like a mute jerk. When the shopkeeper came to talk to us, my friends had split, leaving me with the aftershock. They really could be assholes.

Turning the music up, I cleared my mind and focused on the lyrics. But my mind still drifted.

Clary.

Her face filled my thoughts. I didn't know what it was about her. She wasn't like any of the girls I knew who only cared about hair appointments, the length of their nails, and when their next tanning session was. I could actually recall moments when and entire conversation was devoted to the colour of their nail polish.

I cringed at the memory.

I didn't know Clary. But I wanted to.

I considered that feeling for a moment. It had been a long time, _too _long, since I'd genuinely wanted to get to know someone. Have a conversation with them. Hell, just sit in a car and listen to old 70s music.

_You're never going to see her again Jace. Face it, you're from two different worlds_, I reminded myself. Long drilled knowledge of the way it was always seemed to ring through my mind every time I thought about changing the status quo.

Clary's curious green eyes and fiery red hair flashed through my mind again as I pulled my car into the parking lot. I was greeted at my door by a tall man holding an umbrella. I hadn't even noticed it had begun to rain.

"Master Wayland, your father was expecting you over an hour ago," the man said, his voice barely audible over the pelting rain.

"I have a phone Jones," I muttered, walking swiftly towards the double doors of the apartment complex, "if my father really was bothered by my tardiness he could have called me himself."

Jones followed silently as we entered the building, passing the wet umbrella off to the tired looking doorman. He straightened when he saw me, and gave me a small nod. Looking away I headed towards the elevator. Good thing Jones stayed by my side, I wouldn't have held the door for him if he hadn't. My mood dampened much like the outside weather with every new floor we passed. Once we hit the last number, the elevator _dinged_ and the large steel doors opened smoothly to the penthouse suit. Without breaking pace, I stepped out of the elevator and headed across the smooth marble floor towards my father's office. Jones, like usually, kept up, taking my jacket with practiced ease.

Knowing better than to follow me into my father's office, Jones made himself scarce, gone before I stepped over the doors threshold.

"Miss me?" I said, tone icy.

My father took his time replying, his eyes focused on a file laid out in front of him. He finished reading the page before he slowly raised his silver eyes to me, "Jonathan, you really must learn to be on time every once and a while." He sounded calm, but below my father's cool exterior, there was always a sharp steel that could cut like a sword.

"I go by Jace, and it's not like I missed anything important."

My father's eyes narrowed, but only slightly. "Your mother cooked a lovely meal that she'd hoped we could have enjoyed as a family. But you never showed." His tone sounded distracted and his eyes drifted back to the file in front of him.

"Oh please," I muttered, "mother hasn't stepped one foot in the kitchen since I was born—probably longer. The only reason she ever goes in there is to mix herself a gin and tonic, heavy on the gin."

My father's eyes flashed, and he was in front of me before I even had time to realise he'd stood up.

"You will not talk about your mother like that." His voice was low but held so much power, regardless.

I kept my face blank. "Whatever you say, Valentine."

He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but he settled with a small calculated smirk. "Call me dad."

**Did you enjoy it?**

**REVIEW! tell me what you think, I am open to any and all feedback.**

**The next chapter (3) is coming soon, probably sooner than later knowing me :)**


	3. Chapter 3: Lala Land

**Chapter 3**

Okay, so I may or may not be on a bit of a roll right now, so that's why all three of these chapter have come out so quickly. But I hope you guys are enjoying reading them as much as I am enjoying writing them!

**CLARY'S POV**

"Sorry!" I said, as I came through the door, not giving a surprised Lucas time to even say hello. Simon followed me into the living room where we both dumped out jackets onto the arm of the couch.

Lucas looked pointedly at the jackets. "Least you can do is hang them up, make us seem at least a _little_ civilized."

Simon grabbed both of our coats and proceeded to place them on the hook as I followed Lucas towards the kitchen. "Smells good," I said guiltily. He gave me a "I know what you're doing" expression as he pulled the chilled food off the counter and placed it into the microwave.

"It _did_ smell good, sadly your mom and I were the only ones that enjoyed it—fresh that is." He didn't seem mad, just slightly disappointed. Which was so much worse.

"I said I'm sorry Lucas. Simon and I got...caught up in something," I said carefully, not wanting to seem suspicious.

"I know, Marla Johnson called me about twenty minutes before you came through the door, she saw the whole thing happen in the Jim's Candy Store downtown."

Crap. Dumb nosey people.

"What did she say?"

As the microwave hummed, Lucas turned to look at me, arm crossed over his chest in a purely "We Are About To Be Serious" kind of way.

I gulped.

"She said," he began, "that you and Simon were caught shoplifting."

The accusation made my stomach hurt. The fact that it seemed like Lucas believed it made it even worse.

"We didn't steal anything," I mumbled, trying not to snap the words out.

"That's not what Marla told me."

"Well Marla is a nosey cow that needs to mind her own business," I bursted defensively, but quickly regretted my words. "I'm sorry, Lucas." I looked at my feet. "But I am telling you the truth. Simon and I had barely been in the store for two minutes before the shopkeeper came up to us. Simon doesn't even know how the sucker got in there."

Lucas eyed me for a moment, ignoring the bell as the microwave stopped. "The shopkeeper accused you of stealing a...sucker?"

At his tone I couldn't help but laugh, though it was a small one. "It was ten cents and he really didn't care, it was just this dumb guy that made a big deal of it."

Lucas pulled the food from the microwave and began placing it on two plates. It was homemade lasagne, and it smelt delicious. "What guy?"

I shrugged, pulling my seat up to the table just as Simon entered the room. He gave me a looked that asked "Is the coast clear?"

To that I nodded and smiled.

"The guy with the awesome car," Simon answered for me as he took his seat.

Lucas gave me a curious look. After swallowing a mouthful of cheesy noodles I answered. "After the guy made the huge deal about the whole thing he apologized to the shopkeeper for the 'misunderstanding—the whole reason we are late and currently eating micro-waved lasagne—and then we left the store and tried to catch the bus."

"Which we very much missed, much to our efforts," Simon chimed in, mouth still partially full of food.

"Okay, and how does this guy's car play into this?" Lucas asked me, though his eyes were on Simon as he gulfed down the lasagne. He seemed like he was starving.

"Since we missed the bus, the guy offered us a ride home. I didn't want to take it but..." I gave an annoyed look at Simon who was utterly absorbed in the contents of his plate. "Simon practically forced us to take it."

The image of Jace came into my mind. Now that I thought about him without all the anger clouding my vision I realised he had been really quite...cute. He'd had curly blond hair and evenly tanned skin that seemed natural, but in these days, who knew? I'd also quickly discovered, upon entering the car, that his eyes really were brown with a tint of gold. His smile was also something I could get used to...

When I found Lucas watching me, I blushed, as if he'd somehow seen my girlish—highly uncommon-thoughts. Which horrified me beyond words.

Not commenting, Lucas once again looked at Simon. "So what did this guy drive?"

Swallowing, Simon considered his question. "It was hard to tell perfectly in the dark, but it looked like a red Camaro ZL1, custom made with the works. I mean, this thing had _everything_!"

Simon's excitement helped to distract me from my thoughts. That, and the fact that I had a front row seat to a piece of cheese that was clinging for dear life to Simon's yammering chin. Looking at Lucas, I could tell he was watching it as well. Simon never seemed to noticed. That, or he didn't care.

"Man," Lucas leaned forward on the counter, "those things go for nearly fifty grand easy, and that's without the trimmings. With them..." he seemed to be doing the math in his head. "Probably nearly eighty, maybe more."

If I'd had food in my mouth, I probably would have choked. "Are you sure?"

Lucas nodded. "Whoever this guy was, he must have been pretty well off, especially driving something like that around." Moving away from the counter, Lucas moved to the sink and began washing the contents.

Seeing him do such a task made me remember something. "Hey, where's mom?"

Without looking up from his task, Lucas shrugged. "She went for a walk somewhere. Jocelyn said that she needed to think about a new theme for her artwork. Something about her old one being too mundane..." He rolled his eyes. "Whatever that means."

Sometimes I still found it odd thinking about my mother. Well, I guess not so much _thinking_ about her as considering her. I'd spent so many years, just Lucas and me, eating dinner together, mom miles away and unconscious on a hospital bed.

I sighed as I picked at the remnants of food on my plate.

_This is a good change Clary, remember that_, I told myself. I felt silly for even thinking otherwise, but when you grow up for so long one way, then get thrust into a totally new reality, things can sometimes get muddled and confused.

After the dishes were cleaned and Simon had travelled to the living room to watch T.V. I stood quietly with Lucas in the kitchen, watching as he shifted through the newspaper. I could tell he knew I was watching him, but he gave me the time I needed to formulate what I was trying to say.

"Do you think that people can change?" I asked finally, biting my thumbnail as a brought my knee under my chin.

Without putting down the paper he looked at me. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure." I thought about it for a moment. "Do you think that the same person can be one way in front of one person and totally different in front of the other?"

"I think some people feel obligated to keep up certain facades in order to satisfy different people. But these kinds of people usually surround themselves with the wrong types."

I thought about that.

Simon didn't know this, but I knew Jace hadn't been the one to accuse us of stealing. I'd watched as a group of guys, Jace among them, had come into the store. Jace had seemed uncomfortable, maybe even a little bored. After everything had gone down, I'd noticed that Jace hadn't actually spoken one word to the shopkeeper until he'd apologized for the confusion.

Sure, I'd seen him drop the sucker in Simon's bag, but I had also seen the unwilling expression on his face as his friends had clearly pushed him into it.

_So why'd you yell at him like you did?_ I asked myself. _Because, regardless of who is at fault, he shouldn't have let himself be pressured into something like that. He could have really gotten us into trouble._

For some reason, I didn't believe that was the entire reason behind my reaction, but before I could think about it, Lucas interrupted my thoughts.

"So what's his name?"

"Who's name?" I asked, confused.

"The name of the guy with the flashy car and the ability to make you go into Lala Land." He smiled knowingly at me, so much so that I couldn't even manage a lie.

"Jace," I conceded, smiling slightly to myself. "His name is Jace."

**Okay so since I actually need to SLEEP in order to survive, chapter 4 will come eventually. Right now I need to sleep before I pass out on my keyboard and awake to find a story entirely about the letter h. Which would just be unfortunate and not a good reflection on my writing skills (or lack there of).**

**So, if you like, dislike, or are just bored, Review and give me your opinions :)**

**Night...**


	4. Chapter 4: Empty

**Chapter 4**

Okay, so here's chapter 4, I had nothing to do tonight so I decided to write it. It's not too long but it took me a while. I was trying to get the mood just right for it, but I am not sure if I succeeded. let me know what you think. Enjoy :)

**JACE'S POV**

As I laid in the dark of my room I couldn't help but listen to the noises. I could hear the faint clatter of the ice in the kitchen refrigerator, the rumble as the radiator turned on, and the constant hum of the fish tank in the living room.

None of the sounds were _real_. They were all products of technology and machines. Empty thing that would never do anything but what they were made for.

I couldn't even remember the last time I heard the sound of genuine laughter, of footsteps that didn't belong to one of the staff members that were trying to be effective but never seen.

I lived in this apartment but I never truly _lived_ in it. In the simplest sense, it was a house, not a home. My mother was really the only person in this place that attempted to maintain the family facade which had long ago fallen apart. But she was rarely around, always out at the spa, with her girlfriends, or shopping. My father, who I couldn't help but think of with bitterness, was always at his office, either on his computer or on his secretary.

I smiled to myself at my creative wording.

My father assumed he was so smart, so subtle. But if I figured it out, I'm sure my mother had by now. But she never let on, always smiling when he said he had to work late or he had a meeting on a Saturday. Then again, maybe she didn't know. That, or just didn't give a shit. Probably the latter.

The faint knock at my door pulled me from my thoughts. Before I could even reply, my door opened and my mother poked her head in.

"You still awake?"

I considered feigning sleep. After all it was too dark for her to actually see me. All I need to do was close my eyes.

"Ya, I'm awake."

My mother slipped into the room and gently shut the door behind her. Without turning on the light she move toward my bed and sat on the edge of it. But the way she was breathing I could tell she was or had been crying.

"What's wrong?" I sat up in my bed and turn on my bedside lamp.

"No," she said in weak defence. She turned her face away from the light so all I could see was the back of her dyed blond hair.

"What did he do?" I demanded, already rising to my feet. My mother's hand stopped me, keeping me seated.

When she looked at me, I could tell that she had been crying. By the status of her makeup, I could tell you where each and every tear fell down her face. She gave me a sad smile, her lipstick long since faded.

"You father is asleep, don't worry about him."

I relaxed slightly, but I still remained sitting up. "Then what's wrong?"

Her eyes wouldn't hold mine. Focusing on her lap, she wrung her hands, gripping them tightly then loosening. "I..." her face crumpled suddenly and she wrapped her arms around me. I held her as her sobs shook her body and mine.

Not knowing what else to do, I remained still and waited for her to collect herself. After a few minutes she hiccupped and pulled back.

"You've grown up so well," she said, gently touching my face. "My beautiful boy." I remained perfectly still; more out of shock then patience. I couldn't remember the last time she'd shown any form of physical affection towards me. By her breath I could tell she'd been drinking.

She patted my cheek lightly and leaned forward to kiss my forehead. "Don't turn into you father," she murmured next, though it seemed like she was talking more to herself than me.

I frowned. "Are you sure he didn't do anything to you?"

After a moment she dropped her head and gazed at where it had fallen in her lap. "Sometimes your father and I just don't see eye to eye love, nothing for you to be concerned with."

I didn't comment. Instead, I sat silently and waited for her to continue.

She sighed heavily, all of her strength seeming to go with the escaping breath. "I love you Jonathan, I don't believe I tell you that enough." Giving me one last kiss on the forehead my mother walked out of the room, closing my door gently behind her.

I considered following her to make sure she at least made it to her room, but I could hear the front door close a few seconds later. Curious, I rose silently from my bed and travelled to my door. Propping it open, I stuck my head out but only saw shadows, dimly lit by the glow from the large fish tank. Using that as my guide, I walked towards the front door. Opening it, I peered up and down the bright hallway that led to the public elevator. But there was no one there. All the doors were closed for the night, their inner tenant likely fast asleep.

Closing the door, I latched the chain and moved towards my parent's room. I had no trouble seeing inside because my father's bedside lamp was on.

"What is it Jonathan?" he said in a tired voice. He was sitting on a chair in the corner of his room. He was positioned in front of the window as if he'd been staring out at the starless sky.

I didn't correct him this time. Something about his tone told me not to. "Where's mother, she was just here."

For the first time in my entire life, my father seemed speechless. But after a moment, his face hardened and became business-like. "She's gone."

I could feel my brows draw together. "Gone where? Did she go on a trip? She didn't say anything to me..."

My father wiped a hand down his face and wouldn't meet my eye, his focus travelling back to the window. "She left us."

In those three words my world plummeted. To steady myself I had to tightly grip the door frame. My heart pounded in my ears and I could feel its beat in my palms. "She...left...?"

Impatient, my father nodded curtly, eyes still focused on the window.

Something inside me broke. After a minute of utter silence, the sound of the house; the ice, the fish tank, the radiator, returned.

Without another word I stepped from my parents—my _father's_ bedroom, I quickly corrected myself. I moved towards the front door, mind and body numb. Without thinking to grab my shoes I opened the door and ran. I ran down the hall, down the stairs, and through the lobby. I ignored the surprised glances and ran towards the front door. I moved past the doorman that was sleepily leaning against the door.

When I saw him I stopped. "_Which way did she go?_" I asked desperately, the rain splashing on me from where I stood in the open door.

"Wha—" I didn't let the surprised doorman finish as I grabbed the lapels of his uniform.

"My _mother_." I urged him, face only inches from his.

The man was flustered but he managed to say, "Mrs. Wayland took a taxi, she did not say where she was going..." He gave me a perplexed expression, face turning an unhealthy shade of red.

"Which _way_?" I demanded, roughly shaking the man.

"Ri-right," he stammered, as he looked at the curious tenants and staff members that were watching the scene play out. "The taxi went right." He repeated, eyes starting to look panicked.

Without another thought I let him go, and rushed into the street, barely noticing the rain that was smattering my hair and clothes. I looked up and down the street. Looking for _her_. Moving right I started running. I ran as if I could catch her. As if I could find her. As if I could bring her back and make her stay.

After what felt like hours I stopped.

I was soaked from head to toe and I couldn't feel my feet, which were only covered with wool socks. As people drove by I could see them staring through their windows. Their eyes like bottomless pits of curiosity.

I didn't care. I couldn't even fathom the emotion. I was too lost, too numb_._

Turning around I head back toward the house. Headed back to the empty sounds that filled it. And I knew, once I stepped back inside, that that emptiness would fill me.

Staring straight ahead I walked straight. Face expressionless as rain washing the tears from my cheeks.

**Okay so that's the end of chapter 4! To tell you the truth I don't think I originally intended on going in this direction, but I decided to add a little twist to the story.**

**Hope You enjoyed it! Review, and let me know if you like the direction so far.**

**Chapter 5 should be coming soon, who know it might even be up today!**


	5. Chapter 5: Ricky's Records

**Chapter 5**

Like I said, this one may come today haha. Unfortunatley I shoudl be sleeping right now, but instead, I am writing. Funny how that works...

Regardless, here is chapter five, enjoy!

**CLARY'S POV**

As I walked down the street I couldn't help but smile.

It was beautiful out. After the rains wrath last night, the plants looked refreshed under the suns warm rays. Everything just looked _greener_. Sure, it was still pretty chilly out, but not even the cold could dampen my mood. In the distance, between two high rises, I could see a colourful rainbow peeking through.

It was odd. Usually, I would scoff at people what walked cheerily down the street, a spring in their step, and a smile on their face. I may have even thrown something at them, depending on my current state of mind. Once, I even found myself screaming at one. I think I said something along the lines of "Every three seconds a child dies of hunger."

Well, we all have our moments.

And sure, mine are usually more frequent than, let say, a _normal_ persons, but I was high maintenance—as Simon told me, on countless occasions.

Not letting anything bother me, I continued down the street, stepping around a homeless man that was clattering the contents of a paper cup towards those who passed by.

"How's it going Phil?" I asked, leaning against the wall. I had a few minutes to spare.

Looking up at me, he squinted, recognition slowly lighting his face. "Oh fine, just fine," he said, giving me a gap toothed grin. "Working today Clary?" His eyes dropped and he watched the street, hand still habitually shaking the change cup.

"Heading in now," I replied, digging in my pocket for change and dropped in a few quarters. I squatted down beside him, placing a hand on the worn material that covered his shoulder. "You take care of yourself."

Phil looked at me, gaze slightly distracted. I could smell the booze on his breath.

"Will do Clary, will do." He settled back in his place and continued to shake his cup at the people on the street. I knew most would ignore his presence. But every once and a while, someone would feel charitable and drop a few dollars in his cup.

Shaking my head, I stood up and continued on my way. A minute later I came to _Ricky's Records_, aka, my current employer. Opening the door, I was enveloped by old 70s music, Robert Plant's rich voice playing through the speakers as his band, Led Zeppelin, and their hits played on shuffle.

Ricky, the owner, was positioned behind the counter with a pair of large red headphones wrapped around his neck. He was talking to a customer but when he saw me he waved.

Moving up to the counter I plopped down on one of the vacant stools. The store, interestingly enough, was set up like an old sixties diner, only instead of tacky wallpaper, the walls were covered in hundreds of records. The long bar-like table that ran through the center of the store was liked with swiveling stools that were covered in red and black leather. On the huge table there were booths with headphone attached where you could preview the records you were interested in.

It was dark inside, but not so much that you felt lost. Just enough to capture the feel of the music it sold. _Ricky's_ was my home away from home and I'd counted my blessings when Ricky hired me over five months ago. He hadn't even interviewed me, not really. He took one look at me, asked me my favourite artist and their record, then hired me on the spot.

When the customer paid and left with a bag over his shoulder, Ricky turned his attention to me. "Phil still out on the corner?" He asked, pulling the headphones from his neck and placing them on the counter.

"Every day without fail," I murmured. Since we both took the same route to work every day, Ricky and me always walked by Phil. After months of doing so, striking up a conversation came easily. I looked up when the bell above the store _dinged_. The man that entered had hair down to his hips and an Ozzy Osborne-esque hat. I held in my laugh and looked back at Ricky. He'd noticed the man as well but obviously chose not to comment. His smirk said it all.

"Phil was drunk," I noted aloud, checking the clock to see that it was in fact still ten in the morning.

"Isn't he always?" Ricky retorted, though I could tell he didn't like the reality much either.

Ricky was not the kind of guy you would imagine owning a record store. Not that their really was a _look_, but you know what I mean. He resembled more the boy-next-door type. He was always wearing clean cargo pants and striped polo of some type, though that was occasionally switched up with a t-shirt with one of the record bands on them like _AC/DC_, or _Metallica_. But on most days, the polo's won out.

"Busy today?" I asked, pointedly changing the subject.

Ricky shrugged. "Sold a few _Jethro Tell_ record this morning," he frowned.

"What's wrong with that?" I asked.

He scratched his head and rested his elbows on the counter. "I sold them to a perky soccer mom." This seemed to trouble him deeply. Maybe even horrify him a bit.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Ricky, you look as if someone just told you Santa never existed."

The made him smile. "For your information, I discovered that little tidbit all on my own." He sighed dramatically. "That was a long cold Christmas."

Shaking my head I rose from my stool and did my job. Walking up to the long-haired man that had entered earlier, I stepped up to him, welcoming smile plastered on my face. "Looking for anything in particular?" If he said Black Sabbath or Ozzie Osborne I didn't think I could control my reaction. Which would likely be an unlady-like snort.

"Uh," he gazed around the store, seeming a little lost, "I was looking for _Heart_'s Dreamboat Annie record."

Now that, I certainly didn't expect.

"Head to the back left, you will see a huge _Heart_ poster, when you get to that, their discography is stocked below." The man thanked me and headed towards the end of the store.

Job done, I moved back towards the counter and got back on my stool.

"What was he looking for?" Ricky asked curiously. But before I answered a smirk broke his face. "Definitely wouldn't have expected him to be an Ann and Nancy Wilson kind of guy."

Turning, I could see that the guy was visible from where he was flipping through the records, located under the _Heart_ poster.

"Well, life is full of surprises." When the door _dinged_ again I swivelled in my chair. "Speaking of surprises..." Rising from my stool I moved towards the new customer. "Long time no see, stranger."

Simon smirked at me and rolled his eyes. "You're in a good mood," he noted, as he walked with my up to the counter, taking a seat beside mine. Him and Ricky nodded at each other in greeting.

"Why shouldn't I be?" I asked when we were settled.

Simon shrugged, pushing his glasses habitually up his nose. "I don't know. It's just a big change from yesterday I guess." He shrugged again.

"Ya well, yesterday I had a reason to be bad. So far, today has been pretty uneventful. Which is how I like it." I looked around the store, noting that the long haired guy had apparently found what he was looking for and was heading toward the counter.

"I got this one," Ricky said as he moved towards the till.

"It's pretty slow today," Simon said, looking around the store.

"Makes my job easy." I grinned and turned in my seat, making it go round 'n round. After a few seconds I felt dizzy and stopped. Just as I did the bell rang above the door. "Time for work," I muttered, grudgingly rising from my chair. I stumbled of a moment, still a little dizzy. But I managed to stabilize quickly enough.

"Well I just stopped in to say hi." Simon followed me as I moved towards the customer that was idly moving up and down the stack of records. "I'll see you tonight okay?"

I nodded and waved at him as he exited through the front door.

Approaching the customer, I plastered the smile once again on my face. "Hi, welcome to _Ricky's Record_, what can I help you find today?"

**Okay, time fore sleep! I wrote this while listening to Led Zeppelin on shuffle (hence the reference to Robert Plant :P)**

**I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, it is a change of pace from the previous. Needed a little cheer after chapter 4.**

**Review! Review! Review!**

**Next story is Jace's POV, and it is a little more upbeat than the last POV you read from him. Ill probably post it soon! :)**


	6. Chapter 6: Free

**C****hapter 6**

Okkk so here's the next chapter...this one was fun to write. Kinda reminded me of myself when I was walking down the street listening to my Ipod. Enjoy!

**JACE'S POV**

I needed a distraction.

I needed _something_ that would get my mind off the shit storm that was called my life.

I'd needed to get out of the house. That's what I kept telling myself as I walked down the street, barely processing where I was going, only knowing I was heading somewhere I'd probably rather be. My father had left early this morning, before I'd even awoke. My mother was still very much gone.

Someone had taken my wet clothes that I'd dropped on the floor last night, washed them, and I found them neatly—tauntingly so—folded on my dresser, fresh and clean. As if nothing had ever happened to them.

As if nothing every happened last night.

It seemed like that was how it was. Everyone greeted me like normal, no one showing pity, no one acknowledging that someone was missing. That someone had _left_.

When I had left this morning for my "walk," I'd traveled by the doorman. As soon as he saw me I could see him visibly tense. I suppose I can't really blame him, but part of me wanted to hit him. Hit _something_.

Hell, I'd hit a damn telephone pole. I considered this as I walked by them. If it weren't the fact that it would be rather redundant, not to mention painful, I would have a hay-day.

But instead I'd walked past the doorman silently, not even acknowledging him. When I'd entered the street I turned left instantly. There had been no way I was going to turn right; I'd felt almost physically incapable of such an act.

Thirty minutes later, here I was: on some random street, surrounded by graffiti and far away from the established business buildings of the inner city. But here it seemed...quieter. Sure, cars still drove by, some honking with impatience, some screeching as they accelerated through greens. But, despite all that, I felt calm.

That is, until my phone rang and reality dropped back on my unsuspecting head. Resisting the curse that nearly burst from my lips, I pulled my phone from my jacket and checked the number. The caller ID read Alec Lightwood.

I considered ignoring the call, but I knew he would just call back in the next five minutes. Alec didn't like to be ignored.

"Hello?" I sighed, not making much of an effort to sound interested. What was the point?

Alec didn't notice, or didn't care. "You're coming out tonight."

_Nice talking to you too_. "And why would I do that?"

"Because it's Saturday, duh," Alec muttered, as if it should be obvious.

I stopped walking and clenched my eyes shut, rubbing them hard— as if that would make the headache go away. "Listen Alec, right now isn't a good time okay?"

He was silent for a moment. Then, "Where are you right now?"

I frowned at my phone. "Why does it matter?"

I could picture him shrugging. "Because, you should be where we are...which is at The Ivy. Coming?"

I shook my head. Then, remembering he couldn't see me, I sighed. "Sorry, can't."

"Is this about yesterday?"

I tensed.

Alec continued. "Because if it is, you need to get over it."

"How did you find out?" I asked. _Did everyone know that my mother left?_

"What do you mean? We were there..."

Now, _I_ was confused.

"Alec, what are you talking about?" I asked, cautious.

"_Yesterday_, you know the whole candy shop prank. Ringing any bells...?" Alec sounded annoyed now.

The relief was immeasurable. "Oh, right."

"What did you think I was talking about?" He sounded curious, but not enough to push.

"Nothing, never mind. I still can't come out tonight though," I muttered, starting to walk again. I narrowly avoided a shattered beer bottle that lay in the middle of the sidewalk.

"The old man locking you up tight tonight?" Alec joked.

_Might as well_, I thought to myself. But it was useful as a way out. "Ya, he was pissed when I was late for dinner last night. He took the car keys and there's no way I'm dishing out for a cab just to see your ugly face." I said, making a forced sounding laugh.

"Fine, fine," he laughed. "Well I gotta get going, Magnus and the others are heading out in a few. I'll talk to you later."

Pressing _end_ on my phone, I turned it off, watching as the screen went black. Shoving it in my pocket, I shook myself, trying to clear my mind. Which, was pretty difficult—surprisingly.

As I continued forward, not really basing direction off of anything but feeling, I found myself walking towards a homeless man. I could see him in the distance sitting on the corner of a large brick building. From where I was standing I could see the sign of the store read _Ricky's Records_.

Curious I began walking towards it.

That's when _she_ came out. Clary.

For a stunned moment I didn't move. Instead I watched, frozen on the sidewalk. She came out of the store, squinting when the sun hit her, as if her eyes weren't used to the light. Her rich red hair flashed in the light, glinting as it blew in the wind. I watched as she pulled large black headphone over her head, the kind that fully covered your ears.

She was heading in the opposite direction of where I was still standing so she didn't see me staring like an idiot. Collecting myself, I moved forward, keeping pace with hers. After a few seconds I started to consider what this looked like. I was waiting for a person to call the police on suspicion of stalking.

_Oh well_.

I stopped when she stopped, and leaned casually against the wall, pretending to be fascinated in the creative display of graffiti. From the corner of my eye I was amazed to see that she had crouched down in from of the homeless man and was talking to him.

I watched curiously as she patted the man on the arm, then rose and waved at him as she continued down the street. Following, I walked a distance, and passed the homeless man myself. The man wasn't anything extraordinary, he was dirty and smelled of alcohol, and was clearly out of it.

"Change for my cup, young man?" the man asked me, obviously noting my curious stare.

"Right..." Digging in my pocket I came out with a twenty. "Uh, here you go." Not knowing what else to do, I dropped the bill in his cup, much to his surprise, and quickened my pace before I lost sight of Clary around the corner.

Catching up, I kept my distance, but still managed to see her clearly. Watching curiously, I couldn't help but smile at how free she seemed, head phones in place on her rocking head. I watched as she danced to whatever she was listening to, not even caring that people could see her.

I couldn't remember ever feeling that free.

As she walked along, skipping now and then, and shooting her arms out as she pumped her fists, I couldn't help but wonder what in the world she was listening to. But before I could even think about it, I covered a chuckle when she stumbled, miss-stepping on a dance move. She didn't fully fall, but she made a big enough deal of it that you could tell she had almost face-planted

I grinned when she straightened herself and looked around to see if anyone had bare witnessed to her stumble. After a second she was walking again, dancing where she'd left off, not even caring as she walked by an older couple that were watching her with comical expression on their faces.

The woman looked horrified, and the man seemed amused. I couldn't help but shrug when they older couple a walked past me and gave me a look of "Did you just see that?"

After a few minutes, Clary stopped at house. Stopping myself, I stood in the shadows, out of sight, and waited as she knocked on the door. Seconds later, a familiar face opened the door. Simon, I believe his name was, though I wasn't completely sure.

I couldn't hear what they were saying to each other, but Clary had pulled the head phones down around her neck was smiling. Then, she stepped into the house and the door closed behind them.

Turning around I headed back up the street, hands tucked comfortably in my pants pockets. For the first time since last night I felt peaceful.

Smiling, I felt free, and I was going home.

**So that's the end of that, hope you enjoyed the chapter :)**

**I will write the next one soon enough, I just have to find the time!**

**Review and tell me what ya think!**


	7. Chapter 7: Golden Angel

**Chapter 7**

Welcome to chapter 7 where Phil is the star of the show-well some of it. ENJOY :)  
>I truly love homeless people. They always have the best stories.<p>

**CLARY'S P****OV**

By Sunday I was getting more than just a little frustrated with myself. I didn't know if it was hormones, sudden onset psychosis, or perhaps dementia. But I just couldn't get Jace out of my head.

Ridiculous right?

Well _I_ certainly thought so as I pulled my hair back into a loose ponytail and checked my appearance in my bedroom mirror. I was dressed in my usual work clothes: black skinny jeans paired with flats and an authentic 70's band t-shirt. Today I was feeling _Guns 'N Roses_, and showed it by wearing their name proudly across my chest.

I wore little makeup, just some eyeliner and mascara, nothing too fancy. I didn't bother with foundation. The not-so-simple task of covering up mthe smattering of freckles that stood out prominently across my cheeks and nose was a long and arduous task; one not to be attempted by the faint of heart.

"Clary are you coming down? I made eggs!" my mother's voice said, a little excitement ringing through on the last part.

First thing you needed to know about my mother, above all else, was that she can't cook—at all. So if the moment arises when she asks you to try something she's made, either faint on the spot, feign sickness, of just run away screaming. All three are effective, regardless of their lack of subtlety.

"Coming!" I answered as I looked at my bedroom window. For a moment I considered escaping through it.

Instead, I grabbed my wallet, shoving it in my back pocket, and headed out of my room. Going down the stairs I could smell the food from the kitchen. It _smelt_ normal, but that didn't mean much in this household. It could smell normal and even _look_ normal, but nine times out of ten—if made by my mother—it wasn't normal.

"Hey, I think I am just going to grab something on my way to work," I said, as I walked through the kitchen and headed for the front door. But my swift getaway was quickly deterred by my mother who stepped out in front of me, spatula in hand.

"Now why in the world would you do that?" putting her arm around my shoulders she led me to the table. I sat reluctantly when she pulled out a chair.

"Really mom, I should get to work..." I tried one last effort.

"Oh hush, you leave now and you'll be much too early." She gave me a stern expression. "There's 'early', and then there's 'suck-up early'."

I shook my head unable to hide my smile. "Mom, there is no such thing as 'suck-up early'."

She shrugged her slender shoulders, the strap of her paint-covered overalls falling off her shoulder. She ignored it. "Stop stalling and eat, I made these eggs specially for you."

I could tell by the silence of the house that Lucas had abandoned ship likely before my mother even had the chance to turn on the stove.

Lucky bastard.

I looked at her then I dropped my unwilling gaze to the egg-covered plate. Grabbing my fork, I slowly picked up some of my plates contents and dropped them in my mouth. At first, all went well, then I nearly choked.

"Baby, what's wrong?" My mother looked as if she were about to give me the Heimlich manoeuvre.

But I waved her off, cringing as I swallowed. "Too much salt," I managed, grabbing my glass of milk to attempt to wash away the taste. It was like I swallowed salt water.

"Darn," my mother frowned down at my plate, "guess that's another thing I need to work on." Pulling her hair back into a twisted bun, she sighed.

I tried my best to smile but I could still taste salt.

My mother, ever since she'd awoken from her coma had been trying all sorts of new things; like cooking, running, singing. But her real talent, and the only one she was actually capable of doing _well_, was painting. She loved to paint, and it was one of the first things she'd done when she'd woken up.

Jocelyn Fray-Garroway was beautiful. Everyone always said we looked alike, but except for the matching red hair, I didn't see it. I mean, how could I? It felt like I was comparing a peacock to a turkey at times—me being the latter. My mother always tells me that everyone is beautiful in their own way. Personally I just think she's trying to be nice. She _is_ my mother after all. Therefor it is her job.

Her marriage to Lucas aka Luke (though I preferred Lucas) was faster than anyone had expected. They've only been married for two months now, but that meant that they'd tied the knot only ten months after she'd woken up from over ten years of "sleep".

It seemed odd to me, and I was at first suspicious, believing they only married because I needed a father and Luke had acted as one for so long. But I'd seen they way they looked—and still look—at each other and had put that notion to rest. Before my mother had married my biological she had grown up with Luke. So it wasn't like they;d been practical strangers.

"Maybe picking something up on the way to work was a good idea," my mother suggested, rising from her seat. "You go on, I'll deal with this." She eyed the eggs, determination set on her face.

"Okay, I'll be home later. I might hang out with Simon after. If I do I'll call and let you know," I said, heading for the front door. Once outside I headed down my familiar street, stopping here and there just to waste time.

My mother had been right. I was going to be way too early.

Taking the long way to work, though pointless on most days, helped a little to distract my mind. Though, not enough to get a certain golden-haired boy's face out of my thoughts. It seemed to be rooted there like an annoying weed. Whenever I thought I'd gotten rid of it, BAM, pops up again.

Luckily, the alternate route still took me past Phil. He was _Ricky's Records_ resident security guard of sorts. Someone steals, he can at least tell us which direction the thief ran when he left the store.

Every little bit counts.

"How you doing today Phil?" I asked, shamelessly taking a seat beside him. I noted curiously that he smelt better today and he was cleanly shaven. "You're looking spiffy."

Looking at me, a wide smile lit his face. For once he seemed focused. "Thanks Clary, stayed in a motel last night!"

That surprised me. "Oh really, and how'd you spin that?"

"My Golden Angel helped," he stated, matter-of-factly.

That piqued my interest. "And who's that?"

Phil shrugged. "Boy came by here yesterday, not long after you left." He smiled to himself at the memory. "My Golden Angel. He came up to me and just dropped a whole twenty in my cup. Didn't even think twice about it." Phil's toothy grin was wider than I'd ever seen it. He continued, "after he left I just got this _feeling_."

"What kind of feeling?"

He thought about it for a moment. "The inspirational kind I suppose." He looked thoughtful. "I gone and took that twenty, went to that motel up the street where the manager there's a friend of sorts of mine. I sometimes sleep in the back, under the roof where he'd let me stay. This time I went up to him, and for the first time I surprised him by renting a room for the night!" Phil seemed so proud I couldn't help but smile.

"Go on," I urged.

"Well, I got up into my room, and for the first time in ten years I slept in a real bed," he reminisced. "Then, come morning, I shaved and had a shower." He gave me a knowing look as he leaned back against the cool bricks. "My Golden Angel did that for me. Not just the money. He urged me invisibly...like an Angel."

Phil closed his eyes. And for the first time since I'd met him, his cup lay next to him, and his hand lay empty and motionless in his lap.

Leaving him in peace, I stood up and travelled into the store. I was early, the closed sign still hanging on the door. I could hear Ricky shuffling boxes in the back.

"I'm here!" I shouted in no particular direction.

"Hey Clary," Ricky huffed, box of records position on his shoulder as he stepped out from storage. "Did you see Phil?"

"Ya, quite a transformation, I didn't even smell any booze on him." This made me happy beyond words, but his notion about this "Golden Angel" bothered me. Mostly because it brought an image of Jace's face surrounded by golden hair to my mind. But I quickly pushed it away.

I thought it was just kindness, seeing as it was only money, but Phil seemed to see it differently. I wasn't sure if he would have had the same inspirational reaction if some other individual had dropped a twenty in his cup, but who ever this "Angel" was, I was immensely grateful.

After all, it's not every day you come by someone willing to pay kindness to others. But those who took those moments, even if they were initially unintentional, can make a difference.

**SO WHATDOYATHINK?**

**Hahaha, I wrote this listening to a thunderstorm out my window, luckily that mood didnt reflect in my story. Would have been depressing if I'd all of a sudden made it rain...thank god for small mercies :P**

**So, review, and tell me your thoughts. I'm curious to learn what you guys think about the story so far!**


	8. Chapter 8: Infatuated

**Chapter 8**

Okay, here we go! The second meeting. This one is a lot less hate-filled than their first genuine meeting, but regardless, Jace and Clary still manage to surprise.

**JACE'S POV**

I had told myself that I wouldn't. Had literally said the words over and over again in my head most of the day.

Yet, here I was.

Here I was, standing like a fool, across the street from _Ricky's Records_—otherwise known as the current employer of Clary.

Great.

_Way to go Jace, you have officially labelled yourself as a stalker. Good accomplishment._ Though, being a self-proclaimed stalker had its benefits. I wasn't sure yet _what_ they were just yet, but I figured they'd come to me eventually.

I walked towards the store. I wasn't even sure if she was in it, but part of me was drawn towards it. Being Sunday afternoon, I thought there was a pretty good chance she was there though.

I saw the homeless man in the same spot on the street. He didn't see me but I could tell he was cleanly shaven, which was a surprise. But I didn't think about it long as grasped the large handle of the door that led into the store.

_Here we go..._

The _ding_ that sounded above the door was unexpected. As soon as it went, it felt like all eyes fell on my. Luckily, none of them belonged to Clary.

It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the darkness of the store, but after a moment I was gazing at walls and walls of records of every type of cover. There were three people browsing around the store, and one that stood behind the counter. He was eyeing me with mild curiosity, thinking me to likely be a prospective customer.

The store, I noticed with some humour, resembled and old diner. The kind that has a long bar table with rotating stools in front of it; though this interpretation was significantly more modern. That and I doubted that they served food.

"Can I help you find something?" the guy behind the counter asked. He was dressed in a blue polo and jeans, which seemed odd especially with the content of his surroundings. I would have expected maybe dreads and facial piercings. He seemed comfortable enough though, so I didn't think about it too hard.

"That's alright, I'm just browsing." I had been tempted to ask him if a girl named Clary worked here, but he'd already busied himself with another customer. I also didn't want to seem creepier than I already felt, lurking around a dark record store in hopes of seeing a girl.

This was so not like me.

Growing up, I had never really needed to make much of an effort with girl. It sounds egotistical, I know, but it`s the truth. Obviously when your ten you have little to no interest in girls, so their secret notes and cards I would receive at random during those years were, in the best put ten year old words, _gross_.

But as I got older, moved into high school, my perspective and overall preference of girls had drastically evolved. Even then, I was pursued more often than I was the pursuer. Though, they never really put up a chase, which I thought I liked.

Yet now, here in this store, I realised I was infatuated. At least I hoped that was all it was.

Travelling towards the back of the store, I found myself genuinely interested in the contents. I found records by _Lynyrd Skynyrd_,_ Def Lepperd_,_ U2_, _Pink Floyd_... I was actually tempted to buy some. Regardless of the fact that I didn`t have a record player.

I turned when the bell above the front door _dinged_.

"I'm back, and I have brought nourishment!" the girl cheered, greasy brown bag labelled _Waldo's Wings_ held high and proud above her head.

The guy behind the counter grinned and outstretched his hands in a "gimme" motion. "I'm starving," he grumbled, digging into the bag. "You sure took your time." He didn't sound mad though. He was too focused on the wing-filled bag.

"Stop complaining," she said, strategically reaching in the bag and pulling out a sauce covered piece of meat. "Yesterday you went on break for a whole hour, where as I"—she checked her wrist watch—"was only gone for thirty minutes."

The guy stuck his tongue out at her, which she reciprocated in full.

"Any sales while I was gone?" she asked, though her focus was all on the food.

The guy shrugged. "Sold _The Who_ record we got in stock yesterday."

"Really? That was quick..."

As their conversation continued, I moved down the record lane and tried to look subtle. Though, trying to blend in when you are the only customer without mass amounts of facial hair was relatively difficult.

When my back was turned, I pretended to be interested as I shuffled through a box of _Guns 'N' Roses _records. After a few seconds I found myself genuinely interested. So much so that I didn't notice when someone walked up behind me.

"Ah a GnR fan. Man after my own heart," I heard her voice say behind me as she gazed over my shoulder at the box.

I stiffened, but didn't turn.

"Ya, I was looking for something by them, though I can't seem to remember the title," I murmured, keeping my face turned from her view.

"I could probably help you. Do you know what songs were on it?" Her voice was sweet and polite, nothing like what I'd heard when I had given her a ride home the other night. I liked it.

"Uh, I think it was the original with 'Sweet Child o' mine'," I said, pulling one of their songs at random.

"Oh, then you'll want their 'Apetite for Destruction' record, one of their best." Moving up to my side, she reached into the box and after a second, pulled out the record. "Here you—" Her eyes practically bugged. "You..." She didn't elaborate.

As she just stood there staring at me, hair high in a ponytail and a _Guns 'N' Roses_ t-shirt, I tried my best not to say something stupid.

"Uh, hi." _There you go Jace, just keep it simple._

"What are you _doing_ here?" Her voice rose, but she quickly checked herself when she noted her boss watching her. She leaned closer, voice hushed. "What are you doing here Jace?"

The fact that she remembered my name forced a smile to my face. "I'm just browsing," I stated, artfully pulling the record from her grasp and walking past her down the lane. I continued looking at the records, pretending like the fact that she was watching me suspiciously didn't bother me.

When she had stood so close I had smelt vanilla.

_Oh man, you're a goner_.

I left my face passive, as I continued forward. She quickly caught up to me.

"How did you know I worked here?" she demanded, voice still in a cautious whisper.

I looked at her with mock surprise. "I didn't know. I just came into a store and, woa and behold, you work here. Nothing to it."

She hesitated for a second, expression doubtful. "So you didn't know I worked here?"

"Bingo," I said, though when she seemed to think about that, I hid a smirk. "Why do you think I would purposely come to a store you worked? Are you implying that I am stalking you?" I gazed at her steadily until she turned an adorable shade of crimson.

"No!" she hissed, obviously embarrassed. "I just thought that maybe...never mind."

Now I was curious. "What did you think, Clary?"

At her name, she looked up and held my gaze for a few blissful seconds. Then she blinked heavily and shook her head. "It's nothing, I'll just bring this"—she swiftly removed the record from my hand—"up to the counter. You can pay when you are ready."

Turning, she moved back towards the counter, she turned back once, eyeing me with a slightly confused expression on her face. When I turned my back on her to continue browsing the records I grinned to myself.

After a few minutes of making her sweat I moved up to the counter. "So, when are you off?"

My question surprised her. She was putting the record in a bag and ringing up the cost. "Off...?"

I nodded. "You know, done work." I kept my face neutral as I casually leaned against the counter. I gave her an innocent smile when she eyed my suspiciously.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Just curious." I shrugged, grabbing the bag as she passed it over the counter.

"Well then curious you shall remain," she muttered, looking away from me and concentrating on the counter. She fiddled with her pen and began drawing doodles on the receipt.

I smiled. "I'll see you around, Clary." I murmured over my shoulder as I headed for the door. But as I opened it, I was surprised to find the homeless man standing directly in front of me. I was still half in the store so I had no choice but to stand there with the door propped open.

"My Golden Angel!" the man said, laughing.

"I'm sorry?" I looked back at Clary where she was positioned in front of the counter. She was staring at me with an odd expression on her face.

The man drew my attention back to him. "Thank you," he grasped my free hand in his, holding it tightly.

I was too surprised to react.

The man patted my shoulder a few times. "You're a good boy."

The man's words, a reflection of my mother's last words to me, made tears begin to well in my eyes. Swallowing hard, I nodded at him. "I'm sorry, but I need to go." I had to get away before the empty feeling came back and swallowed me whole.

But before I could get by the man and out the door, I heard someone call my name. Turning my head, I saw Clary approaching me as she pulled a a coat over her shoulders.

"I get off now," she murmured.

**So how was it? Did you enjoy it?**

**The next chapter will me Clary's POV but it will be a direct continuation of this scene. It will be up eventually, so for now, to pass the time, I vote you review :)**


	9. Chapter 9: Run

**Chapter 9**

Due to my need to study for exams, it took me a little while to get to this one, though I'm sure a whole day is not _too_ much of a stretch :P.  
>Regardless, I hope you enjoy, and remember, ENCOURAGEMENT IS THE BEST MOTIVATION. So, I vote you review :)<p>

**CLARY'S POV**

I didn't even know what got into me as I grabbed my jacket and moved towards where he stood at the door. Where he stood in the blinding light of the open door, he really _did_ look like an angel.

"Are you ready to go?" I asked, noting the confused expression on his face. I also noticed the single tear that had escaped down his cheek. I kept my face neutral.

"Uh, ya," he murmured, golden eyes dropping as he roughly rubbed his cheek. I saw the brief look of surprise that crossed his face when he saw the wetness on his sleeve. But the look quickly disappeared as he focused on getting out of the store.

Phil was smiling like a fool, though he let us pass without saying a word. I waved at him, and he waved back, but his eyes were only focused on Jace.

He'd called him his Golden Angel.

As we walked forward silently, I couldn't help but sneak glances of him. When I had found him in the store it had been such a shock that I nearly jumped for joy. Well, maybe not _jumped_, but i definitely would have embarrassed myself. But after the joy had faded, suspicion had quickly set in. Sure, I was glad to see him—though he definitely didn't know that, thank god—but how did he know I worked there. I know he'd said it was just a coincidence, but it just didn't add up.

I mean, what were the chances?

That and he definitely didn't strike me as the old record type. He was far too modern.

"So, what changed your mind?" he asked, looking down at me curiously, easy grin back on his face.

It struck me again just how _beautiful_ he was. I felt out of place just walking beside him. "What do you mean?"

"You—" he shook his hair, curly hair shining in the sun. "Never mind."

Silence fell again. After a few step I caught him watching me. "What?"

He shrugged, and tucked his hand in his pockets. "Nothing, just thinking."

"About...?"

"Life," he murmured, then seemed embarrassed that he said it out loud. "I mean, nothing _deep_ or anything like that, just simple stuff."

I rolled my eyes. "Jace, nothing about life is ever simple." I sighed, tucking my hands in my jacket. It wasn't exactly cold, but I didn't want to chance my swinging hand touching him. I was afraid if it did it wouldn't want to let go.

He was walking very close to me. I wasn't sure if he was doing it on purpose or if even noticed. But I didn't shift away; instead I nonchalantly scooted closer, just a bit. At one point my shoulder even bumped his arm...

I'm screwed.

_Calm down Clary, he's just a guy. No need to get your panties in a twist._

"So where are we headed?" He asked after a minute.

"I have no Idea," I said honestly, taking a look at where we even were for the first time since we'd left the store. I squinted at a sign in the distance. "I recognize the street. So at least we aren't lost..." I gave him a sheepish look.

Grinning, he shook his head. "Well I have no where special to be, so lead away."

He seemed serious so I decided to take a left turn at random. As we travelled up the random street, I broke the silence. "So what _are _you doing here? And don't tell me it's a coincidence."

He considered my question. But before he could answer, a shrill ring sounded from his pocket. I saw look of annoyance light his face as he gave me a sorry look and pulled the cell from his pocket. "Ya?"

I couldn't hear who was on the other line, but whoever it was darkened his expression.

Jace frowned. "Jones what are you talking about?"

We stopped walking, and I stood watching him. He seemed relatively calm. But I could see that his jaw was clenched and his hand was gripped too tightly around the record bag.

"Well you can tell my father that if he wants to talk he can call me himself." He briskly snapped the phone shut and closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he opened them and turned to look at me. "Sorry about that."

I shook my head. "It's alright. Problem?"

For a moment he seemed as if he was going to answer, but then seemed to reconsider. "Nothing to worry about." He gave me a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "So have you decided where we're going yet?"

I pursed my lips and looked up and down the streets. "Not quite yet..."

"Well, let me know when you do." He didn't seem in any hurry though.

"So are you going to answer my question?" I asked, unable to let it go.

"Right," he said, pulling his hands from his pockets and letting them swing at his sides. "I was shopping."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "And you just happen to drop in at the same store I work in?" I knew I sounded incredulous.

"Do you want the truth?" he watched me, waiting for my reaction.

I shrugged, trying to seem cool. "Doesn't matter to me."

He saw right through it. "You're a terrible liar."

I scoffed at him, sticking my nose up. "I'll have you know I am actually very convincing...most of the time."

He raised a brow but didn't comment further.

"So...?" I urged.

"Thought you didn't care?"

I nudged him in the arm. "Come on, _tell_ me."

Sighing, he shrugged and actually looked a bit embarrassed. "The truth is, I _didn't_ know you worked there. Not for sure at least."

"But how did you even think to look at Ricky's?" And most importantly, _why_ did you look for me? I wanted to ask, but kept quiet.

"I saw you come out of the store yesterday when I'd gone for a walk." Now he really looked embarrassed.

I hid a smile. "And you went for another walk today, I see."

Still slightly red, he laughed. "Okay, I'm busted. I'll admit I came down here to see you."

Hearing him say those words aloud practically made my heart stutter. But I kept my face calm. "And why did you want to do that? I mean it's not exactly like we parted on very good terms last time..."

"Believe me, I know." He frowned, as if his motives were lost to him as well. "I guess I was curious about you."

"Curious?" Never heard that one before.

"Honestly, I can't really explain it, _this_." He gestured to me and himself. "I just found myself drawn...to you." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, I don't really know what I'm saying right now."

"I don't mind," I said a little too quickly, and felt myself blush.

He looked at me, giving me a crooked smile. "Thanks." Something flickered in his eyes. "You want to know something?"

I nodded.

"Talking to you now, just like this...it makes me feel _better_. I don't really know how to explain it..." He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. "Lately I've just felt so empty," he admitted, then quickly cringed. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be dumping this stuff on you. I'm sorry," he repeated, staring down at his feet.

I didn't know what to say. We continued for a bit in silence before I stopped walking, and watched him take a few more steps forward before stopping himself. I stood staring at his back, and waited for him to turn. When he did, I was all of a sudden struck by how utterly vulnerable he seemed. It wasn't at all like how we'd met the first time. Looking at him now, it seemed as if he were defeated. As if he was..._lost_.

Silently I walked towards him. He didn't move, just watched me quietly, an unsure expression on his face. When I was so close to him that I could feel his warm breath on my face, I reached up and gently touched his cheek. That seemed to surprise him, but he still remained and quiet.

"Never be sorry," I murmured as I wrapped my arms around him and tucked my head under his chin. For a moment he stood stiffly, but then he began to relax and he brought his hands around me. One hand travelled to my head, where he gently ran it over my hair, and the other just held on.

We stood there for what felt like forever. We just stood there, in the middle of the sidewalk, not caring who saw.

When I drew back to get more comfortable, I felt his arms tense, and for a moment I didn't think he was going to ever let me go. But when I showed him I wasn't leaving, he relaxed and I could feel him vibrate as he chuckled.

"Thanks," he whispered against my ear.

I shivered as his breath tickled my ear, and hugged him tighter. Going on my tip-toes, I rose to his ear. "Right back at you."

That made his chuckle again, and this time he drew back enough to look at me. "Clary, you really are something."

His genuine words drew a smile to my lips. "I try."

Pulling back fully we began walking again. But this time we walked so close our arms remained touching. After a while, reality decided to set in.

"I should probably get home," I said reluctantly. It was staring to get darker out and we had already been walking for over an hour.

Jace sighed, and, to my surprise, reached down and grasped my hand. When he saw me look down in surprise, he shrugged. "Life is too short."

It seemed like a funny statement, but I found myself agreeing. As we approached the next street, I moved to turn right when I felt him stiffen, grip tightening on mine. Stopping, I tuned to look at him.

"Jace, what's wrong?" I tried to turn right again, but he didn't budge.

"I—" He shook his head, as if trying to empty it. "I...I can't Clary, I'm sorry." He let go of my hand and began backing up. His expression was so sad and confused, I didn't know what to do.

"Are you alright." I took a step towards him.

He placed his hand up to stop me. "I'll see you later okay?" His voice seemed to tremble as he continued backing up. Then, without another word, he turned and ran. Ran so fast he was gone before I had time to even process the scene.

I stared at where he had been no seconds earlier. I just stood there.

He's run as if he were running from something. From someone.

**That's all for this chapter folks! The next one, which will be Jace's POV will be coming soon. But right now I must sleep!**

**Zzzz time.**

**But I would really love to know what you guys think. Over a thousand readers, and only 6 review! Come on! haha :)**


	10. Chapter 10: Flying Plates

**Chapter 10**

Okay, so here is Jace's POV after he left Clary. This poor boy just can't get a break! I hope you enjoy, I wrote this after my exam so I finally had a little time to relax! Yay!

**JACE'S POV**

With each street I passed, the more my mood plummeted.

Part of me was in denial. And the other part was cursing at itself for running away. Running away from _her_.

I blinked when I realised that I didn't really know which _her _I was talking about. Though I probably looked insane when I ran from Clary, I had also run from my mother—or the memory of her, I suppose.

I gazed down at the hand I'd practically ripped from Clary grasp. It now laid cold and stiff in my pocket.

But I'd had to run from her—Clary I mean. I couldn't let her see me like this; empty and broken inside. She might have asked questions that I couldn't answer, or ones I wasn't ready to. Maybe I never would be ready to.

I could still see her expression when I'd backed away from her. She had looked confused and maybe even hurt, and that was because of me, because I was a coward.

I hadn't wanted to run. If I could have, I would have stayed with her for the longest time possible, but it was that damn corner. She'd moved to turn right and I just...couldn't. My body stopped responding, and all I could see was the expression on my mothers' face as she left my room, left my life.

I hated this. Hated _her_.

Walking quietly, I noted that the sun was lowering in the sky and it was quickly getting darker. I hurried my steps. I was barely familiar with this area when it was day time out, let alone when it was pitch black.

_I hope Clary got home safe_...

I kicked myself for my cowardice.

After a few more silent steps, my phone vibrated. I figured it was probably Jones, so I ignored it, letting it go to voicemail.

I thought again of Clary. But I couldn't seem to focus on her smile, her hand in mine, the way she said my name. Instead, images of her confused face kept dominating my thoughts.

Taking a different strategy, I stared at the grounded and focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

When my phone vibrated once more, I ignored it. I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, at least not right now.

After ten minutes, I began to recognize the streets. I was getting closer to my apartment, and I thanked god for the little mercies.

When my phone vibrated for the fifth time, I cursed and reluctantly pulled it roughly from my pocket. "Jones, this better be good," I muttered, noting the caller ID.

"Where are you?" Jones sounded uncharacteristically panicked.

I frowned. "I'm heading to the apartment, maybe ten minutes away."

"Get here. Faster."

He hung up before I could reply.

_That's odd_. I thought again. Jones was usually the most composed man I had ever met. He'd have to be, working for my father. But he'd sounded...scared almost. I couldn't explain it.

This time when I ran, I wasn't running from something; I was running towards it.

I reached the apartment complex in less than five minutes. Breathing deeply, I rushed past the surprised doorman and hurried to the elevator, which was empty. Once the door _dinged_, announcing the top floor, the doors slid open and I narrowly missed being hit with a flying plate. Ducking, I shuffled behind the living room couch. I had gotten a glimpse of my father, only he hadn't looked like himself. Before I could think about it, my phone buzzed, it sounded almost deafening in the room.

A porcelain cup crashed near the side of the couch, and I could hear my father curse.

"What the hell is going on Jones?" I demanded, wincing when another smashing sound occurred.

"Your father is currently intoxicated," he said, sounding as professional as he could in this situation.

Tell me something I _don't_ know. "Yes I see that. But _why _is he drunk? I thought he was supposed to be in the office all day today."

A few more pieces smashed. I peeked over the top of the couch and could see my father positioned near the dining room table; a stack of utensils, porcelain plates and cups, as well as a few large bowls spread hap-hazardly over its surface. In his hand he held a stack of plates and cups as he staggered back and forth, throwing and muttering curses as he went.

Jones brought me back to the conversation. "He came home early. I called you earlier to tell you that, but you'd hung up before I'd had a chance to finish," Jones muttered. "I'd thought I could handle him, but after an hour of him refusing to be complacent, I'd had no choice but to barricade myself in your room for fear of becoming a target of your fathers...frustrations."

In another situation, his flustered tone would have been funny. Right now, however, it seemed appropriate.

"Okay, I'll talk to him and try to persuade him to give up tirade of dish flinging. Just stay in my room until it is safe to leave."

"Are you sure you'll be able to—" I cut him off before he could finish. But when he didn't call back to finish, I figured he got the message.

Taking a deep breath, I peered over the couch. "Dad?"

He was still pacing. His suit jacket was flung on the floor, his tie was half undone, along with his shirt, and his belt was lying across the dining table. His usual impeccable hair was in disarray, sticking up here and there. He looked hysterical, a word that I can't remember ever being used to describe my always-composed father.

"Valentine!" I said louder, finally getting his attention.

He looked around, bleary eyed. When he spotted my head over the couch, instead of throwing a plate like I'd expected, he grinned like a fool.

Arms spread wide he said, "Jace, my boy!" He took a few steps forward, stumbling a bit before he decided to dump the plates on the couch, were a few smashed in the process, but he ignored them. "When did you get here?" he asked a little too loudly, slurring slightly.

Before I could answer, he waved his hand in front of my face. "Doesn't matter," he muttered. "Would you like to join me?" He gestured to the table with what looked like pride.

I moved from behind the safety of the couch. "Uh, with _what_ exactly?"

My father led me to the dining room table. "I'm killing your mother." He grinned.

I stared at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

My questions obviously frustrated him, but he answered. "She loved these plates more than _me_." He held up the plate in question then proceeded to smash it on the floor, narrowly missing my foot. He continued. "And these bowls, these damn _bowls_. She loved these too."

He smashed them. Then threw some of the silver utensils at random ends of the room.

I thanked god my mother had never shown a preference to the fish or the fish tank. I could picture him taking them, one by one, and throwing them across the room either before or after smashing the tank with his array of items.

My father stumbled towards the wall, tripping over a chair. He managed to catch himself, but just barely. "And you see this?" He pulled a scenery picture from the wall. It was large, almost the entire span of my father's arms. "She loved this ugly piece of shit." He bitterly smashed it on the corner of the table, forcing a hole in the centre. "Now there's nothing left to love." He said triumphantly, laughing at the top of his lungs.

"How much of this are you going to destroy?" I asked, cautious.

As if just remembering I was there, he took a second to focus on me. "Oh Jace, my boy." He moved towards me, slinging an arm around my shoulder. "Jace I am going to destroy _all_ of it. Every last piece!" He said this with a sort of joyous glee.

I tried not to cringe when my father breath, which smelled overwhelmingly of alcohol, burst into my face. Coughing I moved away from him. "How about you just sit down? Leave the destroying for later? I'll get Jones to make you something to eat and you can sober up."

My father's gaze narrowed, and he glared at me, looking more like his normal self. He took a daunting step towards me. "You know something," he began almost casually, "your mother probably loved you more than me too. She was always fawning over her little _Jonathan_." He said my name with such venom that I backed up.

"Dad, you're drunk. You need to—"before I could finish, I was stunned when my father's fist connected with my jaw. Due to his unbalanced state, the punch didn't have much to it, but it had enough to momentarily stun me.

Before he managed another one, I acted on instinct. Using my fist, I slammed it into the side of his face. His eyes rolled and he fell cold to the floor. After a few second of quietly staring at my him with a sort of dizzy amazement, I heard a door open from behind me.

"Jace are you alright?" Jones asked cautiously.

I nodded without speaking. A few second later, Jones was at my side.

"I thought you said you were just going to _talk_ to him," he murmured , tone fascinated, as he gazed curiously down at his employer. But he made no move to try to wake him.

"I did," I said calmly. "It didn't work out too well." Stepping away from my fathers sprawled body, I moved towards my room. "I'm going to stay at Alec's tonight," I said over my shoulder.

Jones just nodded, not looking at me.

Going into my room, I slowly shut the door. Once I was safe in my safe, I collapsed, sliding down the door to the floor. I could feel my hands beginning to shake. Taking deep breaths I tried to calm myself. My jaw was starting to ache, but I barely noticed.

_You just knocked out your own father_.

I shook my head, hard, trying to empty it. Instead I rose awkwardly to my feet, legs feeling like jell-o, and grabbed my knapsack with still shaky hands, filling it with the clothes that were within reach. Once it was full, I slung it roughly over my shoulder and briskly left my room, face composed.

Jones was now on the phone, likely calling the cleaning service. He's managed to shift my father into a sitting position against the couch. But I tried not to look at my father as I moved towards the front door. He hung up and stopped me before I could escape. "Wait, Jace." He stepped towards me, I saw him eye the swelling mark on my jaw where my father's fist had connected, luckily he had the mind not to comment. "When will you be back?"

I thought about that for the first time. "I don't know," I muttered. "I just need some time."

Jones nodded looking worriedly at my father's unconscious body, then back to me.

Heading to the door, I pulled it open, and took one last look at the scene behind me. Then, much like my mom, I shut the door firmly, leaving my life behind.

**There you go everyone!**

**I had fun with this one, making Valentine lose his composure, and what not, and I hope you enjoyed it aswell.**

**Review! Review! Review!**

**I'll write the next chapter, which will be in Clary's Pov. It's going to be Monday, so you all know what that means!**

**Time for SCHOOL.**


	11. Chapter 11: School

**Chapter 11**

It has arrived. haha though once again I suppose one full day doesn't make that statement too epic.

Regardless, here is chapter 11. I hope ya'll enjoy!

**CLARY'S POV**

_He was walking away from me. _

_As his hand slipped from mine, with it went the warmth that fled from my fingertips. But I couldn't speak. Couldn't call him back to me._

_There was pain in his eyes, pain that my touch could not heal, could not fix. __The pain was in every step as he backed away from me, regret mixing with the pain._

_When I found my voice it was too late, he was gone._

_Jace..._

When my alarm blared, I nearly fell out of my bed.

It was like one of the stereotypically funny moments, only it really wasn't all that funny—for me anyways. And due to my cat being the only witness, I'm sure his bland expression was as good as I was going to get for my little show.

However, due to the preventative measures I took to avoid such a fall, it caused me to pull a muscle in my calf.

My mother entered the room to me jumping up and down on one foot, tightly grasping my lower leg in a vain effort to to stop the pain. All the while repeatedly stating "it _burns_!"

She stood silently waiting me to finish my dance of agony before saying, "breakfast is ready."

I stared at her for a moment, then experimentally placed my leg on the floor, cautiously flexing my foot as I did so. I found the charlie-horse had passed and breathed in relief.

"Done?" my mother asked, still standing in my door. When I nodded she continued, "Luke went to work earlier this morning, so I'll be taking you to school today," she said cheerily.

I sighed. "Mom..." I stopped, feeling awkward.

"What?"

"I'm eighteen..."

"Your point?" My mother narrowed her gaze and placed her hands on her hips.

"Sure, sounds great," I mumbled, pulling my housecoat over my shoulders.

My mother grinned as she tightened the strap of her overalls. I could see a few paintbrushes tucked in the pocket. "Great, like I said, breakfast's ready." She sighed when she saw my horrified expression. "Relax, it's just milk and cereal, nothing too challenging."

I smiled in apology before I followed her down the stairs. "So what are you going to today?" I asked, making conversation.

Ahead of me, I could see her shrug. "Still trying to think of a new theme for my work." She frowned, taking a seat beside mine when we reached the kitchen table.

"What about angels," I said aloud, without realizing. I felt myself turn red.

She looked at me for a moment. "Angels...huh." Leaning forwards she placed her elbows on the table, considering.

As she thought, I could have bitten my tongue. The only reason I said angels was because I had been thinking of Jace...for the umpteenth time. I really needed a better topic to focus my mind on. I looked sidelong at the smiling bee's face on the cereal box, before quickly shaking my head.

"City of angels." My mother grinned. "I love, it." She patted my cheek, then quickly got off her stool, cereal forgotten.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Studio. Can't let the inspiration slip away." But she paused and turned to me guiltily. "You okay to walk to school today without me?" She couldn't seem to hide the hopefulness from her tone.

I smirked. "Go. I believe I'll survive."

Giving me a parting smile, she quickly vanished around the corner.

Finishing my cereal, I placed the bowls in the sink and the milk back into the fridge. When I got to my room, I found a text message waiting for me on my phone from Simon that read: walk with me?

I smiled, and texted :always.

Placing my phone back down, I went to my closet and stared hopelessly at the amassed clothes. Reaching in at random I pulled out a black long sleeved V-neck and a pair of dark blue skinny jeans.

_Good enough_. I thought to myself, placing the clothes on the bed. After my shower, I dressed and quickly brushed the knots from my wet hair. Damp, my red hair looked almost ruby red.

When my phone vibrated again, I was pulling on my black converse high tops.

Simon's text read: outside, ready?

I answered, and pushed the phone into my back pocket. Grabbing my bright red scarf I wrapped it around my neck then grabbed my knapsack and pulled it onto my shoulders.

"I'm off to school!" I shouted at my mother's closed studio door as I headed out. She didn't reply. But then again she never did when she was in what Luke referred to as "the zone."

"Hey," Simon said, as I moved down my front steps towards him.

"It's so nice out," I noted, tucking my hands around the straps of my bag. "I was scared it was just a fluke."

Simon shrugged. "Feels cold to me," voice glum.

I shook my head. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing, just not looking forward to school today, I guess."

I looked at him curiously. "For any particular reason other than the fact that it's school?"

That made him smile. "Nah, just this girl."

"Girl?" That piqued my interest. "What girl, and why are you scared of her?" I joked.

Simon glared at me as he shoved his hands deeper in his pocket. "nothing, never mind."

I jabbed him in the side. "Come on! You can't just say something like that and not elaborate!"

Shrugging, he frowned. "I don't know. Last week out of nowhere my lab partner dropped out of the class."

"Okay..."

"You know that new girl?"

"Maia Roberts?" I pictured the girl for a moment. She was dark skinned, and I couldn't tell what she was exactly but she seemed like a mixture of races. She had dark eyes and long hair. But other than that I couldn't think of anything else. She'd seemed nice when I talked to her a few times, but by Simons current expression, I rethought that. "Why, what is wrong with her?"

His brows drew together as he shoved his glasses up his nose. "I'm not sure. Since she was new and my lab partner left, she became my new partner. I don't know if I _did_ something to her, but she barely talks to me and whenever I try to make conversation her answers are short and...I don't know, not very friendly."

"Maybe she's just shy?" I suggested.

After considering that for a moment, he sighed. "I have no idea, she won't let me get to know her. It's kind of awkward, just working silently for a whole hour." He shrugged. "I guess I'll just have to see if maybe the teacher will assign me a new partner."

"Whatever you think will help," I said absently.

Simon looked at me, then tried to see what I was focusing so hard on in the distance. "What in the world are you looking at?"

That made me blink. "Huh?"

"I said, what are you looking at so hard?" he looked at me curiously.

"Nothing," I muttered quickly, changing the subject. "So what are we doing after school tonight?"

Simon eyed me doubtfully but answered anyways. As he spoke, my mind drifted again. I _had_ actually been looking at something— or _someone_, I guess would be more accurate. Ahead, I had seen a boy walking, his hair was a curly gold and for a moment I'd though—hoped—that it was Jace. But even before Simon had pulled me out of it, I had realised the boy was a stranger.

_Wow, I am creepy._ I shook my head. _Stop obsessing Clary, it can't be healthy._

"Sound good?" Simon asked expectantly, pulling me from my reverie.

"Uh, sure. Ya sounds good," I mumbled, not paying attention.

"You didn't hear a word I said, did you?" Simon's voice was accusing.

I cringed, guilty. "Sorry, I just can't seem to focus on anything right now, I don't know what's wrong with me."

He smirked. "I do."

My eyes flashed to his face. "Who told you?"

I could tell that my words confused him. "Told me..?"

"Sorry, ignore me. What are _you_ talking about?" I kept my face calm.

He watched me suspiciously. "I was going to say that you're probably distracted by the fact that your stalker will be awaiting your arrival."

I rolled my eyes. "Tyler is _not_ a stalker. He is just an overly enthusiastic friend." It sounded lame even in my own head.

"Sure he is," Simon replied sarcastically.

I pointedly ignored him.

When we got to school, I pulled my bag higher on my shoulder and avoided getting run over by a passing skateboarder.

"Watch it!" I muttered.

Simon slung his arm over my shoulder and chucked me in the chin.

"You'll survive. After all, it's just another day at school."

**That's all for tonight people! I need to sleep, which always seems to be the case.**

**Gotta study for a History exam tomorrow, freaking out! I sorta wrote this as a stress reliever, but I hope you still enjoyed the new addition!**

**Review, and tell me what you thought!**


	12. Chapter 12: The Storm

**Chapter 12**

OKay everyone one, I am sorry about the long wait! I have been so overwhelmed with exams and work lately that I just have not had the time to to write the next chapter! But here it is, FINALLY! Sorry about the huge time gap, but I hope this will make up for it!

**JACE'S POV**

When I was younger, on the very few occasions when my father was not working, we would go out to the ocean.

It was most special when it was just before a storm.

Sometimes, if I listened real hard, I could hear the gods yelling at each other. The thunder would roll. The ominously beckoning sound would silence everything. Make it still until the next rumble rolled through the darkening sky. Stating its claim over the clouds.

"They're angry," my father would always say, his eyes, much like mine, staring up into the sky with wonder.

"Did we do something wrong?" I'd ask. He would always give the same answer.

"No, they just like to remind us every now and then who is boss."

As the sky begins to darken, and the rumble of the thunder grows in volume and power, making the trees around us quiver and quake, I'd know what was about to come.

For an instant you could feel it. The complete and utter silence, as if the world was holding its breath. Waiting. The calm before the storm.

Then streaming light would light the grey sky. A mighty _crack_ would accompany it, making you jump in your seat at not only the sound, but the sheer beauty of it. They would always remind me of life-filled vessels, pulsing with power, like the veins of the gods.

But storms eventually faded, leaving little of their presence behind. Except for the memory.

That's the thing about storms. You fear them when they surround you, _overwhelm_ you. But once the thunder has silenced and the lightening has faded, and all you have left is the sensation, you mourn the storms absence.

Here. Sitting here now, I know that feeling. All too well...

"Hey..."

I came back to reality when I felt someone nudging my arm.

Looking to my right, I saw Alec. He was watching me with what looked like concern. The expression seemed out of place on his face.

"Huh?"

"Are you alright man?"

I frowned. Looking around I remembered that I was still sitting in class, and Mrs. Robinson was droning on about square roots at the front of the room. God I hate math.

"Yea I'm fine, why do you ask?" I tried to pretend like I was listening and paying attention to the lecture, but I wasn't fooling anyone, not even myself.

"Well after you showed up at my house last night..." he shrugged, "I know I said I wouldn't ask, but you've been so strange lately that I'm...worried."

Saying that was uncomfortable for both of us.

"Listen, I'm sorry, if you don't want me crashing at your place I can find somewhere else."

"That's not it Jace," Alec muttered. "You're my best friend. That means I _know_ you. And _this_"—he gestured to my exhausted looking position in my chair—"isn't like you."

I leaned back in my chair, pushing my hand through my hair. I hadn't even bothered to brush it this morning. "My father was being a psycho, I don't know what else to say."

"Okay, what about before?" He pushed.

"What do you mean?" I said, tone flat.

"You know what I mean. You have been like this since the weekend."He pulled his chair closer to mine. "You can tell me Jace, you know that."

For a split second I actually believed him. I believed I could open up and tell him all my shit. Get the heavy burden off my chest. I could picture me telling about how my mother left, how my father was drunk and how'd he'd hit me and me him, how I thought I was falling in love with a beautiful red-haired stranger...

But Alec, because I knew _him_ would judge me, without even doing it intentionally. They all would. The world I come from, flaws are exposed and exploited. They make or break a person in my world. Every move was scrutinized. Perfection was the norm, anything else was just...unacceptable.

But before I could even open my mouth to come up with another excuse, Mrs. Robinson interrupted me.

"Mr. Wayland and Mr. Lightwood? Is your conversation so important that you need to interrupt me with it?"

I could hear Alec mutter "yes" under his breath but I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest, sitting straighter in my seat.

"Good, now class can anyone tell me what..." as she droned on, my mind travelled.

Last night when I'd shown up at Alec's he'd let me in without a word. Ever since we were young we had made a pact. Every time home life got hard we could always turn to each other, no questions asked. Though I have admittedly used this pact more than Alec, he still never said anything. For a moment I reconsidered telling him everything, but I knew it was my burden to bare, and mine alone.

When I'd awoken this morning, I hadn't even wanted to get out of bed, let alone go to school. Alec's constant prodding to get my ass in movement didn't even motivate me to get out from under the covers of the bed that I was staying in, in the spare bedroom.

I didn't know what the appeal was, but Alec loved school. He was smart, was passing with easy A's and he was never late a day in his life. I've known him since preschool and I only ever remember him taking off a few days due to sickness...whereas my count may have been significantly higher.

The of course there was Isabelle, Alec's younger sister. She was also a large reason why my motivation to go to school came seemingly out of no where and got me out of bed. I remember pulling the sheets off my face and seeing her standing beside me smirking after Alec had finally given up on trying to get me up.

"Hey sleepy head," she'd said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Don't get me wrong, Isabelle was gorgeous but she was a little too high maintenance...and even a little scary. Which I found out years ago when I'd thought I was interested in her. Luckily I'd been cured of that little idea quickly. After I'd expressed my interest, Isabelle had gone from being cool and mysterious to being obsessive and clingy. Which coming from her was excessive and scary as hell. When I'd broken it off with her, much to Alec's relief, she'd been a little...unhappy.

But Isabelle's version of 'unhappy' was leaving odd notes on my car...in bright red paint and capital letters. There were only so many ways someone could spell jerk. Hers were quite creative though, I'll give her that.

Luckily, after a while she'd cooled down, but now she seemed to take my disinterest as a challenge. Which she takes very seriously. She flirts every chance she gets...among other things.

"Isabelle, what do you want?" I'd mumbled, pulling the sheets back over my face.

"Oh nothing, I just heard you weren't going to school today, so I figured we could hang out. I was gunna skip too."

After she said that I peeked over the cuff of the blanket. She was smiling at me seductively.

I'd never jumped out of a bed so quickly. "You know what, I think I _will_ go," I managed to say as I threw a shirt over my head and yanked on the same jeans I'd worn yesterday. "I'll, uh...see you later!" I ran out the door and caught Alec just before he pulled out of the drive way.

When I basically jumped into the car, hair all over the place due to my lack of shower, I must have looked like a maniac. "Let's go." I looked up through the cars windsheild and could see Isabelle smirking through the front window. "_Now_."

"What changed your mind?" Alec asked, eyeing me curiously.

I shrugged, trying to act casual. "Nothing, just had a change of heart I guess."

Coming back to the present, I was relieved when class finally ended, the bell shrilling for longer than was necessary. I rose from my chair, quickly followed by Alec. But instead of trying to ask me more like I'd expected him to, he just looked at me and smiled.

"Listen Jace, whatever it is, I just want you to know that you can talk to me." He coughed gruffly, then punched me in the arm, lightening the tone. "And next time you choose to come to school to try to avoid my sister, please don't sacrifice showering. You smell terrible."

I opened my mouth to say something, but just ended up laughing. This time it was genuine. "I'll try to remember that. Was I really that obvious?"

"Well the look of sheer terror on your face when you got in my car was a pretty good clue."

"Sorry man, I know she's your sister but...she definitely doesn't take after you in the 'cool and calm' area. I think those genes may have skipped a generation."

Alec shrugged, pulling his bag further up his shoulder. "She can be a bit excessive at times but she means well..." when he saw my expression he added, _"usually_."

When we got to our lockers I noticed someone standing beside mine. "Hello Principle Garland," I said politely, though still a little curiously.

"Jace, I was hoping I would catch you." She smiled at me then at Alec. "Could we talk for a moment in my office, I promise I won't make you too late for your next class." Her smile remained, not giving anything away. Damn she was good.

"Alright." I looked at Alec. "I'll see you later?"

Alec nodded, though he was eyeing the principle skeptically. He knew as well as I did that every time I was called into the office, Mrs. Garland was _never_ smiling, and I always knew why I was being summoned. But this time, I drew a blank.

When we got to her office, she gestured to the chair in front of her desk while she took hers at the head. "You are probably curious why I asking you here today, Jace," she said, practically reading my thoughts.

"Just a bit," I murmured, tucking my hand in the front of my sweater.

"Well, it was brought to my attention that your father has been calling the school today." She frowned. "A few time actually. He seemed to think you were missing."

"He thought I was missing?" I sagged back in the chair. Images of him lying uncouncious on the floor came to my mind.

She continued. "I was as surprised as you, but don't worry, I assured him that you were in fact in class." She smiled again, though it was a little tense. "I just wanted you to know that if there is anything wrong, anything at all, the student counsellors and I are here to help, with _anything_."

For a moment my mind was blank. Then her sincere tone and her concerned eyes practically hit me in the side of the head. "Listen, Mrs. Garland, I was just staying at Alec's last night, my father had been at work and I guess no one told him where I was. I have my phone so if he needed to get a hold of me, he can through that." I assured her, feeling relieved when the concern faded slightly from her face. I thought about the phone that I'd taken the battery out of and left in the trash bin at the curb of Alec's house.

I rose from my chair. "Was that all?"

She nodded, though remained in her seat. "You may go back to class Mr. Wayland."

When I left the room, I exhaled, as if I'd been holding my breath. For a moment I considered heading for the exit door, and just running.

But I finally realized that I needed to stop running from my problems.

My problems, much like the storms that fascinated me, and still do even now, need to be stood through. I had to bare through them and their overwhelming presence, through their unexpected flashes of fear and pain. Because, maybe, just maybe, when it was all over, I would appreciate and learn from them.

And maybe, just maybe, miss them when they were gone.

**Hope you guys enjoyed it! I feel like this is a good step for Jace, especially in finally accepting his reality and not running away. ****I also chose not to focus so much on his feelings for Clary, not because they weren't important, but in this part of his journey they didn't really apply.**

**Review and tell me what you think! I love reading what you guys have to say :)**

**I can't guarantee when the next chapter's coming (Clary's POV) but I hope I'll to it soon! ****Hope you guys all have a great week and thanks for reading!**

**Oh P.s. when I was wring the beginning of this chapter I was listening to Garth Brook's "The Thunder Rolls". Great song if you like old country, and even if you don't you should give it a listen!**


	13. Chapter 13: Deal

**Chapter 13**

Hey everyone! Sorry it has been so long since I have last done a chapter, life is hectic! But now I am back onto a more solid routine so I'll have more time to write :)  
>So here is the next chapter. It is a little short, not too short though, so don't worry! The next four chapters are going to be in quick procession as they are a back and forth back and forth looks at a scene playing out between Jace and Clary.<br>Enjoy!

**CLARY'S POV**

It was really hard to concentrate when you found the wind blowing through the trees outside more fascinating than a teacher discussing the effects of insecticides on insects.

I wasn't even really sure why'd I'd taken an environmental studies class in the first place, especially when I wasn't really even interested in the environment.

Wait, that sounded wrong.

What I mean is that the world is going to be destroyed in a few more thousand years so why not live it up till then? Who cares if you wanna spray your grass with weed killer? Who cares if you want to leave your dog's poop where it is; regardless of if it's in a "park."

Okay, this still sounds wrong but I am too lazy to justify myself right now...ok maybe I am just a little cranky too.

The entire day felt like it was dragging on, keeping me from getting to where I wanted to go—hence me taking it out on the environment. Sure, I wasn't too sure where I _did_ want to go, but it definitely wasn't here.

"Miss Fray, are we boring you?"

I came this close to saying yes. Instead I turned my attention back to the front of the class. Some of the girls were smirking at me with their typical but ever-annoying "you're such a loser" look.

Sheesh, you'd think that just because I didn't get my hair professionally styled every day before school and dress in Gucci that I were a Lepper, or even worse..._unique_.

Instead I chose to ignore the faceless guppies and focused on the teacher who was waiting expectantly. "Sorry Mrs. Adams, I was just looking out the window thinking about how terrible it would be if all the beautiful trees were shrouded by litter and, god forbid, not laden with healthy insects."

I held the sincere smile on my face, which though very sarcastic, seemed to satisfy my teacher.

That or she was not in the mood to reprimand me.

When she turned back to the board, I found my mind drifting once again. I knew why my mood was sour. And that why was Jace.

Unfortunately, though I knew _who_ I was mad at, I wasn't sure of _why_.

When I had woken up this morning, the dream I'd had about him, about him letting go of my hand and slipping away...I don't know, I've just been frustrated ever since.

Because the moment I woke up I realised something.

This entire time I have been obsessing over a complete stranger.

I didn't know where he lived, how he lived, where he went to school, what he liked to do in his free time, what he like to eat. Hell, I didn't even know his last name.

I had found out all that information before in less time than it has taken me so far. But it is like every time I am with him I don't want to fill it with questions. I just want to _be_.

Which frustrated the crap out of me.

I'm never like this with guys. Not to say I have a wide experience with them, but if I were to compare him with Simon, I could definitely find some difference.

Okay...Simon may be a bad example but you know what I mean.

I just couldn't figure Jace out. He was like a story-less character from one of my mother's paintings. Sometimes my mom's art felt more _real_ than him. He was like a puzzle that was just too hard to solve.

Yet I just couldn't stop _wanting_ to solve him, like he was addicting or something. Since I've met him, it's like I can't go an entire day without thinking about him or seeing something that reminds me of him.

_That's it,_ I thought to myself, _this time _I_ and going to be the one that finds_ him_!_

I held on to that thought for a bit before the logic of it began to fade.

_Oh yea, and how do you intend of doing that?_ I reminded myself that the only reason he'd even found me was because he'd unintentionally seen me on a street.

And if the expensive car he drove was any reflection of where he lived, I probably didn't walk the kind of streets he did—so casual walk-in on the sidewalk was way out of the question. Unless they were coated with layers of spray paint and littered with trash, we were definitely not relatable geographically.

_But then again there is the old fashioned way of finding someone..._ that sparked an idea.

Feeling almost giddy, I counted the remaining minutes until class ended. When the bell finally tolled, I didn't hesitate to grab my bag and rush out of the room, cutting off some of the girl that had given me the evil eye—much to my satisfaction.

"Hi Simon!" I rushed by him. "Bye Simon!"

He seemed too surprised to formulate anything coherent, so instead he gathered his wits and followed after me. When he caught up to my side, I didn't slow. He eyed me speculatively.

"So where are we going?"

"Library."

"And we are running there why?"

"We aren't _running_," I corrected him. "We are briskly walking."

"Fine, why are we _briskly_ walking?" He frowned but kept pace.

"_Because_ I need to use a computer." I shook my head as we approached the library doors.

"Uh huh," he murmured. "And what, pray tell, do you need a computer for?"

"Uh,' I could feel myself redden. "None of your business buddy, god what's with all the questions?" I found and empty cubicle and blew the hair out of my face, throwing him an irritated look.

"Someone's defensive," Simon muttered, though he took a seat beside me.

"Ok, if you're staying it means you gotta help."

"Alright, fire away." He leaned in, as if I had his full attention.

"What's the best way to find someone?"

His frown deepened with what looked like concern. "For what?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not an assassin Simon, I'm not going to kill anyone, I just want to know."

"Well you could probably Yellow Page basic stuff like phone numbers and mailing addresses, but you'll need the person's full name."

My face fell. "So you need their last name?"

Simon nodded.

_Crap_. "Is there any other way?"

Simon pursed his lips as he considered it. "I don't know about usual ways, but I know other avenues that _I_ can use to find out that kind of stuff."

I brightened significantly. "Really? How?"

"My cousin's a cop, remember? He can run licence plates and phone numbers and such."

"So would he be willing to do favours?"

Simon shrugged. "Depends on what kind."

"Meaning?"

"_Meaning_ you're gunna have to tell who you're so intent on finding before I ask my cousin." He smirked at me and leaned comfortably back in his chair, hands clasped, face expectant.

"Curiosity killed the cat you know," I muttered. Simon's smirk just widened. I could tell he was testing me to see how much I wanted to find who I wanted to find. "Fine!" I threw up my hands in surrender and slouched in my seat. "Remember Jace?"

"The cool car guy?"

I shook my head. "Yes, Simon. The cool car guy."

"Ya sure, what about him?" He was eyeing me suspiciously. "Don't tell me you are still mad at the guy for the stunt he pulled at the candy store. Getting back at him won't solve anything."

I was about to deny, when I realised Simon had just given me a way out. He didn't need to know my motives behind wanting the address. Those were mine and mine alone. As long as I got the place, that's all that mattered.

"Come on, aren't you just a little pissed at what happened?" I said, nudging his knee with mine. "A little payback isn't so bad?"

He seemed to consider my proposal. "If I get this address for you, I want no part in what you do, know that." He gave me a stern look before smiling. "Just make sure he gets what he deserves." He laughed.

We both knew he wasn't the prank type. But I was.

"Ok fine, you don't have to have _any _part in what I do, you can just have all the details after I'm done. Deal?"

We shook on it.

"Deal."

**Okay guys this is the first part. It is still gunna be the usual alternation between POV's, but the chapters are gunna be smaller so you get m=both sides quicker. after the next few the chapters will go back to their usual lengths :)**

**REVIEW!**


	14. Chapter 14: Going Home

**Chapter 14**

Hey guys, like I said this chapter is about half the size of a usual one. Do not fear, it will only be like this for this chapter and chapter 15. The rest will go back to normal!

**JACE'S POV**

As I walked back up the stairs that led to Alec's front door, I paused midway. I wasn't sure what it was, but a sudden feeling stopped me in my place.

"What's wrong?" Alec asked, distracted as he looked in his bag for his house keys.

I thought about it for a second before shaking my head. "Nothing."

"Okay, well my parents are out for the night so if you're hungry best to order out, unless of course you feel like cooking."

We both cringed at the thought.

"Chinese?" I offered, though I didn't feel overly hungry.

Alec shrugged. "Can never have too much noodles."

As we entered the house I couldn't seem to shake this feeling. It was like a mixture of dread and sorrow. Though I wasn't really sure why I would be feeling either. Well, maybe a little sorrow, but the dread didn't really tie into anything.

"Did you remember to buy a disposable?" Alec asked, as he dumped his bag on the kitchen stool and moved to the fridge.

"Yeap." I held up the phone in question. It was small and didn't have much power, but it was really only for emergencies right now. I thought about my other phone which was likely at the dump by now. I'd heard the garbage men early this morning when I'd found myself unable to sleep.

"I don't know why you had to throw out your other one," Alec muttered as he pulled a jug of milk from the stainless steel fridge. On it's surface were various photos of Alec and his family, from camping to birthdays and so on.

I couldn't even remember the last time I'd celebrated my birthday with more than take-out and an old movie by myself while my mom was away and my father was "working late."

This is one thing I knew Alec could never fully understand.

"I told you, I broke it and it would have cost more to fix it than to buy a new one."

Alec looked doubtful but shrugged. I watched as he considered the kitchen cabinet where the cups were held but, instead, drank the milk straight from the jug. When he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand he looked back up at me. "Are you going to call him?"

I played dumb. "Call who?"

"You know who, Jace." Alec capped the milk and placed it back in the fridge, closing the door a little harder than was needed. "You can't just run away from your problems whenever they get too hard."

I just stared at him.

Sighing, Alec leaned across the counter and wiped a hand down his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

"Yes you did," I said, taking a seat at the table. "And you're right."

Alec looked surprised, but quickly covered it with a smirk. "Jones must be missing you dearly." He fluttered his eyelashes and winked.

He didn't have time to react before a pencil hit him in the forehead.

"Next ones aimed at your eye," I said, tapping another pencil against the counter.

Alec raised his hands in surrender, though the smile never left his face. "Easy now man, no blood need be shed."

I shook my head at his crappy Scottish accent. "Alec there's a reason you never got the lead in our school play. You really suck at impersonations."

Un-offended, Alec picked up his phone and tossed it to me. "Call the Chinese place and order what you want, and you know what I eat already." He lifted his collar and sniffed. "I need a shower." Shuffling off, Alec headed out of the kitchen an up the stairs.

I sat in the silent kitchen, Alec's cell phone grasped tightly in my hand. I scrolled through the familiar contacts to the Chinese food place we usually ate from. But I found myself scrolling past it to my home number.

I sat looking at it for a few minutes when I heard the shower turn on above me. I could also hear Alec signing a tuneless song that I didn't recognise. That made me smile for a moment, but it didn't last as my gaze fell back to the number.

_Just call it Jace. What harm would it do just to see if he's home?_

I already knew the answer to that question. Which was a lot. I didn't know how much of that night my father remembered. If he knew he hit me or me him...I just couldn't deal with that right now. But I knew I still needed to go home. Not for my father, but for me. I had to face my demons, no matter the form they came in.

Sighing, I opened a new text message page and wrote: Alec. I am going home. I'll let you know how it goes. Thanks for everything.

Placing the phone by Alec's knapsack, I lifted my own back on my shoulder and took a deep breath. Heading toward the front door, I took one last look at the pictures that littered the kitchen fridge.

My father and I may never have that, but no one ever said anything about me not having it with someone else.

**See! Short! I warned you haha!  
>Okay so like usual, the next POV is Clary's and it too will be short!<strong>

**Hoped you liked it! REVIEW REVIEW! :D **


	15. Chapter 15: Unexpected

**Chapter 15**

Here you go! When I was writing this I realized it wasn't going to be short early on. So scratch my previous comments! Hope you guys enjoy!

**CLARY'S POV **

The entire ride there I told myself that there was nothing wrong with what I was about to do.

But there is a big difference between telling yourself something and knowing with absolute certainty that you're wrong.

_Shut up brain_. I muttered. I didn't realise I'd actually said it out loud when I noticed the cab driver eye me suspiciously in his review.

I gave him a sheepish smile before directing my sights out the window.

Nothing looked familiar. Then again, why would it? I've never been this far into the rich part of the city. I've only ever been as close to Wall Street as those who viewed stocks over the television.

Yet it seemed Jace lived in this environment all day every day. I wondered curiously how he was still viably sane.

"Long way from home?" the driver asked, filling the silent cab.

I looked up in surprise. It was as if he'd read my mind. "How can you tell?"

The man gave her a humoured expression. "I can tell you're a New York native, but even natives get that tourist look when they visit this part of the city." He himself looked around. "Manhattan." He shook his head. "Boggles the mind to see the buildings and the people that live in this type of area. might as well live on two different continents, them and us."

I took in his words and my mood plummeted. He was right. Me and Jace were practically from two different worlds. Me, a rough-town girl from Queens, equally familiar with homeless people as neighbours down the street. And Jace living like..._this_. I could hardly even explain it.

I guess it took a cab ride to truly see how different we really are.

It was sort of sad, now that I thought about it.

"Here we are lady, 324 Madison Avenue." The cabby pulled to the side of the street, parked, and turned in his seat, eyeing me expectantly.

Looking through the window I had to look up...and up to see Jace's apartment building. It looked more like one of the mega-huge business buildings we'd passed on the way in. I could even see a door man and an elegant looking woman wearing a long leather coat, standing beside a small ball of fur that I assumed was a dog of somekind. Even though the light was fading, she was wearing large sunglasses that covered the majority of her face.

I gulped. "Are you sure this is the right place?"

I don't know what I'd expected coming here, but it definitely wasn't _this_.

The man checked his GPS. "It's the address you gave me. Now that'll be twenty-three fifty."

I sighed and dug the money from my front pocket. I dumped it in his hand. "Keep the change," I said as I got out of the car and stood on the sidewalk. As the cab sped away and disappeared into the streets traffic, I found I couldn't move from my spot.

_This may be Manhattan_, I told myself_, but it is still inside New York._ I kept reminding myself of this fact, before I felt overwhelmed by the lack of familiarity.

Gathering what was left of my frayed wits, I strode across the street and approached the front door which was manned by a doorman dressed head to toe in red, black and white. He smiled at me, though it seemed a little strained as he noted my very attire.

"Are you lost?" he asked, voice polite.

Yes. "I was wondering if someone by the name of Jace lived here."

The doorman seemed contemplative for a moment before he tilted his head. "Do you have a last name?"

I tried not to cringe. "No..."

The doorman nodded at the fancy woman and her yappy dog as they waited expectantly for him to open the door for them. As if they were incapable of opening the door for themselves. When the woman and her hairball of a dog were out of sight, the man looked back at me.

"I'm sorry, I can't really do much without a last name."

I frowned, trying to think of something. "What if I describe him?"

The doorman looked doubtful. "This building has _numerous_ residents. I am not sure if I could help..."

"Please just let's try," I pleaded. He seemed to hear the desperation in my voice so he finally conceded.

"Thanks." I brought a mental picture of Jace to my mind. It wasn't hard seeing as I thought of him often enough..."Okay, he is about six feet tall, around eighteen years old, I think, and he has golden brown eyes, curly blonde hair and tanned skin."

When I finished my description I noticed that the doorman had gone rather pale. "You wouldn't be talking about Mr. Wayland by any chance would you?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I am not sure. I don't know his last name. Does this Wayland guy drive a..." I tried to remember what Simon called it. "a new ZL1 Camaro?"

The doorman nodded slowly. "His father does."

My heart leapt with hope. "Would you be able to tell me what room number they have?"

A humourless laugh escaped the man's throat. "Just take the elevator all the way to the top," he muttered, opening the door for me to enter. "Good luck," he added, somewhat under his breath.

As I headed towards the elevator I couldn't help but feel out of place in the main lounge, I supposed it was called. The floors were a shiny stone tile that was patterned like a chess board. The reception desk was a long dark oak that stretched the length of the side wall near the elevators, of which there were three.

I could see a few people watching me curiously, but luckily no one stopped me on my way to the elevator. So when the doors _dinged_ and opened wide, I let out a breath of relief when I stepped inside and the doors shut around me.

I gazed, bewildered, at the number of floors the buttons displayed. Taking the doorman's advice, I pressed the very top floor.

As the elevator whirred silently upwards, I shuffled my feet and clasped and unclasped my hands, trying not to think too hard about what I was about to do.

_What if he doesn't let me in? Or what if he tells me to go away?_ I shook my head, trying to push these thoughts away before they forced me to run in the opposite direction.

When the elevator reached the top, I took a deep breath and stepped off. The hall was empty and quiet, much to my relief.

_At least I won't have any witnesses to my humiliation..._

I walked down the short hall, noting that only four doors resided here. Only four apartments for an entire floor...I chose not to think of all that square footage.

Keeping calm, I read the nameplates that were adorned below each doors peephole. When I came to Wayland I stopped. For a moment I eyed the stairs longingly, but I quickly shook the feeling from my body and determinedly knocked on the door before I lost all my wits.

What I didn't expect was no answer.

_Crap. Did you ever consider that maybe he isn't even _home_?_

_Of course not_. I knocked once more, this time harder.

To my relief I heard the rhythmic tapping of hard-soled shoes. Seconds later the door opened to reveal an older gentleman of at least fifty. He was dressed like one of those old fashioned butlers, with a kerchief tucked in his left breast pocket and a heavily starched suit jacket over his narrow shoulders.

He looked down at me as if disappointed by my presence. He seemed to have been expecting someone else.

"Can I help you?" He seemed to settle on, tone curious.

"Uh..." I considered my words. "My name is Clary."

There was no recognition at the name. _Ok, so Jace obviously never mention me to or around this guy_.

I cleared my throat. "I was looking for Jace, is he in?"

The man's face fell slightly and his eyes looked sad. "I am sorry Miss Clary, but Jace has not been home in a couple days."

That I definitely didn't expect. "Do you know where he is?"

"I may," the man said carefully, before looking over his shoulder as if to make sure no one else was behind him. "Jace is currently staying with his school friend, Alec. Are you familiar with the name?"

I gave him a clueless expression. "Sorry, I don't know any of Jace's friends."

The man straightened when audible footsteps came from behind him.

"Jones, who's here? Is it Jace?" the voice sounded both angry and hopeful. It was an interesting mixture.

"No sir," Jones answered, stepping away from the door so the man could see me.

The man who came towards me was in his forties with a think head of whitish-blonde hair that looked natural. He was tall and sturdy for his age, though at this moment he seemed tired.

"Who are you?" he demanded a little rudely.

I noted Jones tensed jaw, though this man didn't.

"M-my name is Clary," I managed, a little overwhelmed by the mans looming presence.

Luke never treated guests this way when they came knocking, no matter how cranky he was.

The man considered me for a moment, measuring me with his eyes before dismissing me. "Whatever you're selling we're not buying."

He seemed about to shut the door before Jones artfully stopped him. "Sir, Clary is a friend of Jace's."

That seemed to get his attention. "Why didn't you say so?" the man said, outstretching a hand to me. "I'm Mr. Wayland, but you can call me Valentine. I am Jonathan's father."

For a stunned moment I almost forgot to shake his hand. It was as if the man went through a complete transformation in less time than it took to blink.

"Clary Fray," I answered politely as he led me through the door.

"Fray..." He Considered the name. For a moment I could have sworn I saw recognition in his eyes, but he quickly covered it with ice. "Nice meeting you my dear," Valentine said. His tone was light but I was a sort of intensity in his eyes that seemed out of place and almost calculating. "Would you like a drink?"

I shook my head quickly. "No thank you. I actually came to talk to Jace, but I was told he isn't here. I can come back later..."

"Nonesense!" Valentine led me to the couch and directed me, a little forcefully, to sit. "Jones, call Jace. Tell him it's rude to leave a guest waiting."

At Jones' slightly perplexed expression, I made to stand. "Jace didn't know I was coming, it's really alright. I can—"

"Sit." The word was a demand, not a suggestion.

I dropped back onto the couch, a sick feeling churning in my stomach.

This time when I looked at Jones it was with a pleading look. He seemed to understand. "I will call Jace once more."

He moved away to what I assumed was the kitchen.

As I sat quietly on the couch I tried not to concentrate on Valentine's piercing gaze. He watched me with both curiosity and barely disguised confusion.

"So how do you and my son know each other?" he asked, tone light.

"Uh, we met at a candy store," I answered lamely.

"A candy store?" such a place seemed foreign to him. He waved it off. "Are you one of his classmates?"

I shook my head. "We go to different schools."

This seemed to intrigue him. "Oh really. And where, my dear, do you go?"

"Uhm, I come from Queens."

If he'd had a drink he probably would have chocked. When he obtained his composure he leaned forward. "Where did you say you two met again?"

Before I was forced to answer, a noise coming from the door saved me. After a second the door opened and in stepped Jace.

It only took a second for all hell to break loose.

And it began with him setting his eyes on me with a completely stunned expression on his face.

"Clary, what the hell are you doing here?"

**There ya'll go! I don't know when I'll get to chapter 16, but hopefully it will be here soon. Lemme know what you guys think!**

**Good night!**


	16. Chapter 16: Ignorance

**Chapter 16**

Okay guys. I realize last time it was Clary's POV as well, but I wanted to make something clear before moving back to Jace's POV. This isn't a filler, though it may seem as such right now. It's just a little insight into Clary's past and her relationship with her first father. Next chapter will be Jace's POV!

**CLARY'S POV**

I have the faintest memory of my biological father.

What I consider to be memories have been muddled and faded by time. They were there, deep down, tucked beneath the recesses of my mind, but there all the same.

I was 7 the year my father died and my mother went into her nearly decade long sleep. Yet, somehow, I remember that day more clearly than most.

His name had been Daniel. Daniel Fray.

When I think back I still cannot tell if the images I hold of him are from my actual memory from all those years ago, or simply created through my mother's various photo albums and portraits of him. Though, I suppose it really didn't matter. His face had been the first picture my mother had painted when she'd awoken from her coma. His face, frozen in time by shades of black, grey...and red.

The day my parents car had crashed, created a ripple in not only my life, but many others surrounding me.

A truth I have to face, even today is that my father, wherever he may be in this universe, heaven, hell, eternity, it didn't matter, all that truly mattered was the last shreds of memory I held tightly to and refused to let go of.

Loss can effect everyone differently. Some retreat within themselves, other lash out with anger and indifference to others. But I, of what I can remember, simply remained ignorant.

The term, ignorance is bliss, came quite true to terms when I found myself to be an orphan for all intensive purposes. My father dead, mother on the brink of being so...a little overwhelming when you're 7 and are just about to enter the first grade.

Before the accident my life had been filled with simplicity—as most adolescents are. But when tragedy hit on that fateful October night, part of me can't help but feel overwhelmed—even now.

I remember that night had been one of the more dreary ones of the month. It had been cold and damp, the road slick and the turns extra sharp. That day on the brink of winter and had finally given up the fight to maintain any semblance of fall. Halloween was coming up, and I had just gotten my costume. I was going to me Ariel from _The Little Mermaid_. My mother had said it seemed most appropriate, and was overjoyed when we found the most beautiful costume I'd ever seen in all my seven years.

"Do you think I could wear this in the pool?" I asked, looking down at myself and grinned when my mermaid tail swished with my movements.

My mother smothered a laugh as she patted me on the head. "How about we cross that bridge when we get to it?"

I didn't argue. I was too impressed with my reflection in the mirror. "What are you being for Halloween mommy?"

My mother pulled her thick red hair back into a loose bun. "Hmmm." She tapped her chin. "I'm not sure, any suggestions baby?"

I too mimicked her expression as I looked at the rack of costumes. There were Frankenstein's, witches, vampires, princess, werewolves, cats, and anything else someone could possibly think of adorning for one night every year.

"How about a puppy dog?" I suggested, grabbing a dark brown hat that had pair of floppy brown ears attached to it.

Placing the hat on her head, my mother crouched in front of me, tilted her head to the side and barked. I couldn't help but giggle as I pulled the ridiculous hat from her head. "How about..." I went on my tiptoes when my eyes spotted the perfect outfit. "Ha!" I quickly ran to the rack, almost tripping on my fin before managing to grab the costume from the rod. "Here!" I said proudly, holding it out to her.

"Daphne, really hun?" she looked at the usual clothes adorned by the femme fatale-type female from the Scooby-Doo cartoon.

I easily ignored her doubtful look. "Dad can be your Fred. He's blonde, it will be like you're the real-life characters!" I couldn't hide the excitement from my voice.

The doubtful look fell instantly from her face and a wide grin replaced it. "See this is how I know you're my daughter—you're as smart as Einstein."

I frowned. "Who's he?"

She shook her head and held my hand as she led me to the cash register. "A very smart individual with a big goofy moustache."

"Like daddy's?"

"Exactly," she agreed as she paid for the costumes and we headed for the car.

"How many day's until Halloween again?" I asked for probably the thousandth time.

"Just six more. Excited?" my mother unlocked the car and placed our bags in the back and then helped me into the back seat, strapping me in with a kiss on the cheek.

I nodded fervently. "I can't wait for all the candy!"

"Me neither." She winked at me. "You better share some of your goodies with me!" she poked me in the side, tickling me.

Through my screams and laughter I managed to say "I promise!"

Nodding in approval my mother closed the door and got into the front seat. "How about you show daddy your costume tonight after him and I get back from our dinner? Get Stacy to help you into it, so when daddy and I walk through the door you can surprise him."

I liked that idea. Stacy was my baby-sitter, or my 'warden' as my mother liked to call it. My parents were going out tonight for date night, like they did every second Friday since I could remember.

When we arrived home, my dad was already there and he was lounging on the couch with a book resting on his chest. I could tell he was asleep and could hear the faint rumble of snores. I tugged on my mom's sleeve and pointed to him. "Can I wake him up?"

She knelt beside me. "Only if you do it _very_ carefully." She winked as she handed me the crazy string we'd just bought to decorate the house come Halloween.

I couldn't help but give her a toothy smile as I turned and slowly crept towards my father with as much stealth as a 7 year old can possibly possess. When I was basically standing over him I took the crazy string and began artfully covering him with it. After his legs and upper chest was covered, I began on his face. When he stirred, I froze but let out a breath when settled back into sleep.

Once I finished my work I gave him a satisfying flick to the ear.

What ensued was probably one of the largest highlights of my week, perhaps my month.

My dad, who likely couldn't see through the haze of colourful sticky string the covered his eyes, crossed his arms in a very parent-like fashion.

"Clary, if you are there, I want you to know that this stuff tastes like dirty feet."

I giggled, before poking him in a colourful cheek. "Do you like it?"

I watched as he brought his hands up to pull the string from his eyes. When he sat up to see the rest of the damage I saw him smirk. "Well then, I must be a pretty heavy sleeper." When he looked at me, his light blue eyes were filled with humour. "Clary my dear, you seem a little bland. I think we should give you some more colour."

Before I had time to run away, my father had me upside-down, my legs grasped in his hands as he dangled me back and forth like a pendulum. "Hun," he called and smiled down at me when my mother came into the room. "Clary's looking a little pale, don't you think?"

My mother nodded in agreement, placing one hand on her hip while the other held another can of crazy string in her hand. She tapped it contemplatively against her narrow chin. "Perhaps we can help her with that."

Ten minutes later, all three of us were covered head-to-toe with sticky crazy string. It was in our hair, on our clothes, and even in our mouths. I laughed when my father sneezed some out of his nose.

"Okay! Enough fun time," my father said, trying to sound stern, though he was still covered in colourful string. "Stacy will be here in less than an hour and you and I still need to get ready," he said to my mother.

My mother nodded and went to the kitchen. When she returned she handed me the bag that carried my costume. I nodded in understanding and raced upstairs to hide it in my room. I needed to save if for when they got back tonight.

_Daddy's gunna be so surprised_, I told myself as I tucked the bag under my bed.

When Stacy arrived and my parent left, I told her of my plans. An hour before they were due back, she helped me into my costume and even put some makeup on my face.

"You're father will barely recognise you!" I remember her saying to me, though her face had long since faded from my memory.

It was only an hour later that we received the call.

Stacy had begun to cry and I stood close to her, staring up at her face with confusion while she talked on the phone. She was only on the phone for a few minutes but it felt like an eternity. When she hung up she fell to her knees and clung to me.

The next span of time was also blurred from my memory. The only thing I can recall after that was me sitting in the hospital waiting room. I was still wearing my mermaid costume, and my makeup was smudged and runny from tears. I remember swinging my feet back and forth, dangling them from the chair because my legs were still too short to touch the ground.

Sometimes it's the smallest thing you remember, regardless of their insignificance.

My daddy was dead and my mother was in a coma.

When you're 7 you don't fully understand such things. Part of you, buried deep gets a mild understanding perhaps, but nothing ever _truly_ makes sense.

That's where ignorance comes in.

Daddy isn't dead; he is just away on a long vacation. Mommy isn't in a coma; she is just sleeping because she is really really tired.

Ignorance, though effective short-term, is ultimately devastating in the long run.

Within the next month I was uprooted from my home and was placed with Luke, my listed godfather. I changed schools, changed baby-sitters, and, ultimately, changed lives.

I was no longer just Clary Fray. I was Clary Fray the orphan. I was Clary Fray the sad and lonely little girl who never spoke. I was Clary Fray who had her life torn to pieces then had it roughly thrown back together again with big sections missing.

But out of all these pieces I still managed to remember one thing. Though he may be gone, my father loved me.

**OKay, to that set the foreground for the next chapter that looks at children and their relationships with their parents, namely their fathers. Which is a pretty touchy subject with Jace and Clary.**

**Let me know what you think of the story so far!**

**Have a great night you guys! :)**


	17. Chapter 17: Goodbye

**Chapter 17**

Hey guys, this is a really short chapter only because I wanted to get to Clary's POV on the situation asap. So the next chapter will be Clary's and I hope to make it epic. And for all you Jace and Clary lovers, you will hopefully get what you've all been waiting for.

**JACE'S POV**

"Clary, _what are you doing here_?" I repeated, though was still answered with the same caught in the headlights expression. The complete shock of seeing her sitting on my couch had nearly knocked me off my feet.

"Jonathan, so nice of you to join us," my father purred, rising from his seat.

My eyes flashed up to his face as I stood frozen in my position near the door. Clary stayed seated looking back and forth between me and my father, an alarmed expression on her face.

Straightening, I stared steadily into his eyes. "Valentine."

He let out a hearty laugh. "Oh Jonathan, no need for formalities." His eyes narrowed, slightly. "Afterall, I am your father."

"For all intensive purposes," I muttered back viciously.

He didn't even blink.

"Regardless," he continued, waving the comment off, "I am glad that you have finally chosen to grace us with your presence." He gestured to Clary, who sat silently, looking pale and confused. "You friend, Clary was it?" She nodded slowly. "Clary has come here to see you. Now it is only polite that you be a proper host and greet her with politeness."

She didn't look at me. Instead she stared down at her lap where her fingers fidgeted with her already worn nail polish.

"Clary," I said again, though still holding my father's eye contact. "Welcome to my home." I said home with a little venom and was satisfied when my father jaw twitched.

"I think I should go," she said, not looking at either of us.

"There is no need," Valentine stated, walking towards where I stood. As he got closer I noticed that his right cheek was a little swollen. I'd apparently hit him a little harder than I'd intended.

Good.

"Perhaps you would like to stay for dinner?" He looked at Clary now as he slung an arm around my shoulder. What may have seemed as simple casual contact was a vast misconception. I could feel the tension vibrating through his muscles and he held on just a little too tightly. As if trying to keep me where I was.

With some force I pulled his arm from my shoulders. His eyes flashed briefly before he face moved into a grin. "Apparently my son does not agree." He laughed, a little bitterly. "Perhaps, Clary, you could talk some sense into him."

Clary looked at me from her seat. She was still a little pale and she had a look of obvious regret on her face. She stood up suddenly and shook her head. "Jace I'm so sorry." Without another word she rushed by me, brushing close enough that I could smell the vanilla on her skin. Then she was gone.

"Now look at what you did, shame." My father had a bored look on his face. "Jonathan, how's about we take this as a sign that you run women off just as easily as I." He grinned then, and moved to the liquor cabinet. Pulling a brandy from the shelf, he poured the golden liquid into a waiting glass. "Cheers," he said more to himself, as he took a healthy swig of the drink.

I tightened my hands into fists and approached him.

"Are you going to hit me again, Jonathan?" he didn't seem at all afraid. nor did he look away from his drink.

My fists didn't loosen. Instead I just shook my head. "You're pathetic."

He did look up then. His eyes narrowed and he slowly placed his glass on the cabinet. "Would you like to repeat that?" His voice was colder than the arctic.

"You heard me." I moved closer. "Your right to control my life died the moment my mother walked out that door." I held up my hand when he opened his mouth. "I am not here for you. I came back for me, remember that."

Without another word I turned my back on my father and walked. I did not run. I didn't stop until I reached the elevator. When the doors opened I stepped inside. "Goodbye, Valentine."

**There you go. I am going to work a little bit on the next chapter so I am no too sure when it will be up. Perhaps some encouraging words will quicken my pace. :P**

**Ps. just random. I found the sickest song. Look up "Sour Cherry" by The Kills. So so good!**


	18. Chapter 18: Outsider

**Chapter 18**

Okay here it is! It took me a little longer to get to it than I expected but I hope it's worth it. I hope you guys enjoy! :)

**CLARY'S POV**

I was so cold, inside and out.

As I stood on the curb I blinked hard trying not to let the tears that had gathered on the elevator ride down fall. I wasn't sure if they were caused by sadness or sheer embarrassment of what I'd just witnessed and partly been the cause of.

Standing on my tip-toes I stuck my hand out into the street, trying my damndest to hail a cab, but most just whizzed by, either not seeing me or just not giving a shit.

I looked down at myself. With my worn down boots and holey pant I just didn't fit in. But it wasn't just the clothes that set me apart. I didn't know how to explain it, but it was if I had some sort of sign stamped on my forehead that read **OUTSIDER** in big bold letters for all to see.

People, as they passed me on the sidewalk, avoided eye contact and shifted slightly away as if trying to create a sort of barrier. Who would have thought that by travelling 15 miles east that'd you'd find yourself practically in a different universe where you are basically a wolf in sheep's clothing?

Shaking off the thought I focused on the passing traffic. Mixed within it was various yellow cabs, all with In Service lights above, yet they all seemed to pointedly avoid me. I had the money and I had the place to go—which was away, far far away. Yet no one seemed to care enough to help me get there.

Glancing over my shoulder, I took one last look at the home of the boy of my dreams. Jace and I would never work. It took so little, just concrete and glass windows to tell me that my world and his would never co-exist—_could_ never.

Steeling myself for reality, I waited until there was a break in traffic and sprinted across the street to the safety of the opposite sidewalk. From where I stood, I could see all the way to the top of the expensive apartment building. Most of the lights were still on, with the light from some muffled by closed curtains.

I had imagined, when I'd come here, that I would find Jace at his door. He would swoop me up in his arms and give me the kiss I'd longed for since we'd first met in that candy store.

I dropped my eyes.

They call them dreams for a reason—just not realistic enough for the real world.

Instead what I'd gotten was a look of horror when he'd seen me in his home. But I can't really blame him seeing as I was the one that had arrived unexpected. He probably thought I was a stalker or something.

I sighed.

Then there had been his father. Jace had called him Valentine, just as I call my stepfather Luke by his name when I talk to him. Only I did mine out of habit, Jace seemed to do his out of anger. I'd seen the look of fury mirrored in both Jace's and his father's eyes as they'd spoken to each other in voices that vibrated with barely contained rage. Even before I'd met Valentine I had gotten the impression that him and Jace didn't really say eye to eye. That had clearly been an understatement.

But Jace's life was no longer any of my business—perhaps it never really was.

Turning my attention ahead of me I began to walk. Sure, walking home in the rain wasn't exactly _realistic_, but I didn't have much of a choice, did I? I figured that once I made it to the outskirts of Manhattan that I'd finally find a cab willing to stop for me.

People had pity on those who look like drowned rats. I really wished I'd brought an umbrella.

"Clary!"

I heard the shout from behind me.

_It couldn't be..._

Turning, I saw a hooded figure running towards me, just barely being missed by a passing car that wailed on its horn when the unexpected obstacle interrupted its travels.

"Jace...?"

He approached me, pulling the hood from his head. His hair quickly flattened as the water soaked it.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to cause a fight between you and your father." I tried not to let them, but the tears began to trickle down, mixing with the rain.

Jace was quiet as he closed the distance between us. He was quickly getting soaked like me but he didn't seem to care. He didn't speak. He just stared at me with burning golden eyes that said more than words.

"I'm going. You don't have to worry I won't ever bother you again." I took a jagged step back, foot landing into a puddle. I didn't care. I just wanted to escape from the look in his eyes. It was just too...painful.

I didn't know if the pain was because of me, and I didn't want to find out.

He was only a few feet from me when he stopped moving. I did too, frozen where I was as I stared up into his bright eyes.

"Jace—" my words were swiftly cut short as he roughly tugged me towards him and crushed his mouth to mine. At first I was too shocked to react. But then as I felt his urgent hands tightened around my waist, pulling me even closer, I let go.

Bringing my arms up, I went on my tip-toes and wrapped them tightly around his neck. I opened my mouth to his and felt a thrill of excitement as his tongue ran over mine in a silent dance of passion. I lost my hand in his hair, grasping here and there, just loving the feel of it between my fingers.

Before I knew it, Jace had tugged me off my feet and I was wrapped around him, in him, feet dangling a foot off the ground while he gave me the best first kiss I have ever received. It literally swept me off my feet.

When we remembered to breathe, Jace slowly set me back down, leaning his forehead against mine as he took in a deep breath.

"Wow," was all I could say, letting out a breathless laugh.

His smile was slow and satisfying. "Right back at you."

I looked down at our clasped hands. Bringing one up, I kissed his palm and looked back into his eyes.

"What was that for?" he asked curiously, though he kept his hand firmly in mine.

"It's a thank you." I smiled.

"For what?"

"For not letting me walk away." I leaned forward and gave him one more lingering kiss. When I pulled away and slowly opened my eyes I found him watching me, the pain gone from his eyes, as if had never even been there to begin with. "And for not being angry anymore."

Jace gave me a crooked smile as he straightened and wiped the rain and maybe some tears from my wet cheek. "I don't think I could ever really be angry with you." He squeezed my hand and started leading me down the street. Sticking out a hand he whistled loudly. Almost instantly a bright yellow cab stopped.

Even soaking wet he managed to look like he belonged.

"Come on," he said as he tugged me after him into the cab. When we shut the door behind us, he told the driver where to go then quickly focused on me. That was the first time I'd ever made-out in a cab. When we arrived I couldn't help but blush when the driver gave me a smirk in his rear view.

"Carl's Diner," the driver said, waiting for his payment.

Before I could even offer to pay, Jace was already passing the man a fifty and telling him to keep the change.

"We're here," he said to me as we slid out of the car and onto the sidewalk.

I looked around skeptically. We seemed to be closer to my world and further from his. Sort of like right in the middle of both. "Can I ask where exactly 'here' is?"

He looked down at me, his smile reaching his eyes. "Only my most favourite place in the world."

As we walked into the diner hand in hand, there were only a few people seated, with a few waitresses mechanically cleaning the large counter. When the bell above the door chimed, one of the waitresses looked up and grinned widely, eyes on Jace. She was an older woman, probably late fifties. Her hair was greying but her smile made her look twenty years younger.

"Well isn't it little Jonathan!" She rushed over and gave him a hug. I stood back in surprise and almost laughed when Jace's cheeks reddened.

"Judith, can't breathe," he managed, and I could see she was actually hugging him quite tightly.

The woman didn't let go immediately, but when she did the wide smile was still firmly in place. "I haven't seen you in a week. I got worried when you missed your usual Sunday morning breakfast."

I noticed that Jace's smile fell a little, before he put another one on top of it. "Just some personal stuff, but nothing for you to worry about. I'll make up for it tonight, and I've brought a guest for once." He looked down at me and I could feel myself warm.

"Hello," I said politely, not knowing if I should shake her hand or hug her.

The woman answered my question for me when she gave me a big hug. "Come, sit sit!" She directed us to a corner booth.

The place reminded me of the old fashioned diners that the record store looked like. Only this one was fully functioning right down to the jukebox and cap-wearing waitresses. The walls were a light blue and white with black and white tiled floors. The counter was long and shiny with silver napkin tips and cups of coffee lining it.

I felt as if I'd fallen into a time warp.

"Here's the menus, what can I get you two for drinks?" Judith asked with the smile still on her round face. Her cheeks were flushed with happiness as she looked back and forth between us.

"I'll have the usual," Jace answered, looking to me.

"I'll just have a Coke please," I said.

Nodding, the woman put away her note pad. "Be back in a Jiffy."

When she was gone and we were left to ourselves, I leaned further on the table and grasped Jace's hand in mine.

He looked down at our joined fingers and squeezed. Looking back up at me, he smiled. "Clary I wanted to say sorry for how I reacted in my house, I didn't mean to speak to you that way." His smile fell slowly. "I shouldn't have yelled at you."

I shook my head. "I shouldn't have just showed up like I did, it was my fault. I didn't mean for you and you father to get into a fight." I could feel the tears welling again when I thought back to the pain and anger I'd seen in Jace's eyes. I never wanted to be the cause of such emotions ever again.

"It wasn't your fault Clary, not at all." He leaned back in his seat, though his fingers still played with mine. "My father and I have never really seen eye to eye. A reality which has been present before I'd even met you."

Before he could continue, Judith arrived with our drinks. "Here you go sweeties, now what can I get you to eat?"

"Once again I'll have the usual," Jace replied easily.

I looked from Jace to the waitress's smiling face. "Make that two of the usual."

The woman nodded and headed back to the counter.

"Do you even know what you just asked for?" Jace laughed.

"How bad could it possibly be? I doubt the place creates creepy food with squids and eels." I paused. _Hopefully..._

Jace shook his head, but didn't comment. It seemed our meal was going to be a one-sided surprise.

"So are you going to tell me what that was all about?" I finally forced myself to ask aloud.

My question didn't seem to surprise Jace, as if he'd expected it. "Are you sure you want to hear it? Because I can't just give you a part, you'll need the whole story—which means we'll be here for a while."

The idea sounded appealing to me. "Consider me your apt listener."

Jace smiled slightly, though his mind seemed to be elsewhere. "Before I start, I just need to know one thing."

"Shoot," I murmured, sipping my Coke.

He seemed to search for the right words. "How did you find out where I live?"

I tried not to choke when a laugh was forced from my mouth. "Of all things, that's your question?"

"What were you expecting?" He eyed me quizzically, one brow raised.

I shrugged. "Never mind. If you _must_ know, I got a cop to find you."

Jace's eyes widened in surprise. "And how did you manage that?"

I acted casual. "I have my connections..."

"Uh huh." He watched me doubtfully. "And what connections would these be?"

"Simon's cousin," I admitted, shaking my head. "We remembered your dad's cars license plate number so we got him to run it."

"Cousin or not, I don't think cops are allowed to just run license plate numbers," Jace pointed out.

"They will if you tell the cop you believe the car to be stolen..." I could feel myself turn red with embarrassment.

Jace stared at me silently for a moment before he broke out into laughter. "I just pictured my dad driving the car and being pulled over out of suspicion on theft!" The idea seemed to cheer him up even more.

"Okay, so I told you my story, now you tell me yours."

His face sobered as he relaxed back in the chair. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

I nodded quickly.

"Alright." He took in a deep breath. "It all began with my mother..."

**There you go! So they have finally taken the step into the relationship area!**

**YAY**

**Next chapter's Jace's pov, which will be coming soon.**

**xoxo review and tell me what you think!**


	19. Chapter 19: Sentimental

**Okay, I admit, it has been a looooong wait haha. But finally I am adding a new chapter. I don't know when th enew one will come after this, but I found myself wanting to write something, anything**. **SO, without further wait, CHAPTER 19 :)**

**CHAPTER 19**

**JPOV**

My father always taught me one thing.

Emotions, no matter how seemingly trivial and benign, are the greatest weakness of all beings. They govern our reactions, control them, something, in my father's eyes,that is just _not_ acceptable.

When I was five, as a surprise for me, my mother brought home a bright yellow Labrador puppy. Like any boy at my age, I had been thrilled. I even stared to think about names: Chester, Riley, Scout...I would have even called it Bob for all I cared.

The night I got the puppy I heard my parent have the biggest fight I could ever recall up to that point. Sure they bickered incessantly and found petty thing to attack the other with, but they always maintained an air of..._civility_.

But this was different.

My father sounded betrayed. I wondered about that for a long time. But I guess a part of me always knew the answer.

How, of all people, could his own wife present his son with something so mundane, so _ordinary_ as a puppy? Something that would weaken resolve, soften, and force petty emotions like joy and delight?

Part of me hadn't been surprised when I'd awoken the next morning to find my puppy, along with any sign that he'd ever existed, gone. When I'd asked my mother about it she'd gotten this terrible look in her eye and locked herself away in her room for the rest of the day. My father, like usual, was nowhere to be found.

I'd cried. At five, what boy wouldn't? I'd cried for the loss of my friend. I cried for my mom. Hell, I even cried for my dad. But mostly, I cried for myself.

My father did more than take away my puppy—though he claims he had no hand in it even to this day. My father took a little piece away from me; an emotion that he saw as a flaw, as a _weakness_.

At five I was forced to understand loss. I was forced to understand that one cannot have a weakness in their life that someone else could take advantage of and expose. One must limit such weakness—which is what I came to find my father thought of me and my mother as: a weaknesses.

But more than any of that, I was taught never to hold on to anything because in the end, everything goes away one way or another.

So the big question here is: Is Clary a weakness?

Answer: I don't give a fuck. Plain and simple.

Part of me still couldn't believe she was sitting across from me eating a giant cheeseburger and fries. In Carl's Diner, of all places.

I just waited for the dream to fall away and for reality to bite me in the ass. I would wake up from all this and find myself back at Alec's sprawled out on the couch. He would be asking me when the food was going to arrive and I would mutter something noncommittal and try for sleep once more so I could find myself back in this Diner with this girl.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Clary said, her cheeks going rosy.

I smiled slowly, taking my time to answer her. I loved it when she blushed. Most people I knew these days had seen everything, heard everything, and likely even done everything, that there was nothing left in their world for them to blush about.

"You're my weakness," I said softly, still partially lost in my own thoughts.

Though she was still slightly pink, she raised a dark brow in question.

I shook my thoughts away and looked down at our grasped hands. We'd been talking for what seemed like hours, and not once, not even for a moment, had she pulled her hand from mine in disgust at what I'd told her.

"You are an amalgam, Jace." She laughed, hand squeezing mine.

The unfamiliar word confused me. "I'm a _what_?"

The look on my face must have been funny because she clamped her mouth together for a moment and bit her lip. She was clearly trying not to laugh, and failing miserably. After a few seconds she composed herself. "An amalgam, you know, a mixture."

It was my turn to raise a brow.

She explained, hand still in mine while the other moved theatrically with her words as she spoke. "You are like a mixture of a bunch of different elements. You have bit of classy Wall Street in you..." She ignored my cringe, "Player, cool intellectual..." she smiled. "But you also have the whole boy next door going on, the generous Golden Angel aspect, and the hopeless romantic."

The last part made me choke on my drink. "_Hopeless romantic_?" I managed incredulously. "Is that how you really see me?"

"Like I said, you are an _amalgam_, therefore the hopeless romantic is only one ingredient of you." She leaned across the table and promptly kissed me on the lips. Before I had time to react she was already back in her seat.

I was tempted to ignore the whole comment and just have her kiss me again...but now I was curious and she could tell.

Clary smiled. "You want to know what makes me think of you like that."

I nodded, leaning a little closer to her across the table.

She did the same. "Well, this place is an example."

I looked around, confused. "Carl's Diner makes me a romantic?" _Wow, the standards must be lowering..._

As if reading my mind, Clary smirked. "Not just the Diner, but what it represents. It's a safe haven, a home away from home of sorts. And don't say it's not, I saw how a weight seemed to life off of you as soon as we walked in this place."

"So you're saying I am a romantic because I see the diner as...more than just a diner?" I was reaching and knew it.

She could tell she wasn't hitting her point home. She frowned for a moment, thinking about it. Then her eyes brightened. "What's your favourite ice cream flavour?"

I was taken aback by the sudden change of topic. "Traditional Chocolate...what does this have to—"

"And would you say that you have liked this flavour for a long time?"

"Sure, but I still don't—"

"And if another flavour, one that was clearly more superior came along and you decided you liked it as well, would that mean you have _two_ favourite ice cream flavours?"

"No flavour could beat chocolate, it was my mother's favourite flavour and one I'd always grown up on." I still had no idea where she was going with this.

"So is it your favourite flavour or your mothers?" she asked, expression blank.

"Both of ours..." Understanding dawned. "You think I am sentimental."

She nodded, smiling. "You are, admit it. Sentimentality is the base in which romantics are structured upon. Carl's Diner is sentimental to you, much like you are to Judith who expresses it through hugging you. We all express it in different ways. You are the epitome of a romantic because you hold on tightly to these sentimentalities and don't let go, you maintain them on a daily basis and don't let them change but you also don't blatantly advertise them because you don't need to." She looked down at our clasped hands, turning them over and bringing her other hand over to cover them. "I like to think that there is a little romantic in all of us."

I thought of my father for a moment, but quickly pushed the image away. If he was a hopeless romantic, I was a two headed donkey. The only sentiment my father had was power.

"What make you a romantic?"

Standing from the booth, Clary shook her head and pulled me up with her. "That's for me to know and you to find out yourself."

I opened my mouth to say something but she smothered my response with a kiss. When I pulled her closer to me I could smell the cinnamon and vanilla of her skin, and feel her warmth even under the layer of her jacket. Part of me just wanted to stand there forever and just be with her.

Clary was right, I was a romantic.

I smiled beneath her lips. Though there was no way in hell I was going to openly admit to it.

She felt my smile and pulled back to look at me. "I should probably be getting home..."

I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was conflicted. She really didn't want to go, but knew she needed too. I was tempted to steal her away and bring her somewhere, _anywhere_, as long as we could be alone.

But, reality is reality, and it wouldn't be called a bitch if it didn't crash down upon us every once in a while.

"Let me bring you home," I murmured, watching her face.

Her smile was slow and satisfying, "Okay."

Pulling out my wallet, I dropped a few bills on the table and pulled Clary away before she complained about paying her half, because I knew she would, and she would genuinely try to. But tonight I felt like I owed her one. She had listened to everything I had to say about my parent and my life and not once did she judge me. Though she would likely tell me I owed her nothing, it wouldn't change how I felt.

"See you in a few days, Judith," I called over the counter as we head for the door.

"You two kids have a fun night, be safe," was her motherly response back. It hit me somewhere deep but I didn't let it show. Tonight was just about me and Clary, and nothing was going to ruin it. Nothing.

**Voila! That commences Jace's POV :)  
><strong>**Like I said, I have no idea when the next chapter is coming, just have faith that it will!**

**Let me know what you thing!**


	20. Chapter 20: Path

**Chapter 20**

Yay, so this time it didn't take 8 months to update (so proud of myself). With everything going on I just never seemed to be able to get back on to write something...dumb excuse I know. But I am back, for now at least and have some IDEAS.

Enjoy

**CPOV**

One of the few things I can remember about my father, even today, was his unwavering belief in people.

He believed every person was inherently good; circumstances just got the best of them sometimes. He believed people were a product of their environment, because, after all, we are all born as blank slates, much like play-dough, we are impressionable.

Before he died, I remember him often saying that "One cannot choose the path they want, but wait patiently for it choose them."

I never truly got what he meant. I always hear people say how me must pave our _own_ way, make our _own_ path, never depend on someone else to do it for us.

But I get it now.

He was never telling me to wait for someone else to choose or create the path for me. He was telling me to be merely patient, discover myself, and fate would form a path that was inadvertently of my own creating.

I had a path now. The only question was, was I ready to follow it?

* * *

><p>As we rode in a comfortable silence in the cab, his hand firmly clasped in mine, I noted with a smile that he hasn't let my hand go since we first arrived at the diner. Not once, not for anything.<p>

Noticing my smile, Jace squeezed my hand and watched me quietly.

"What?" I asked, self-consciously tucking a strand of thick red hair behind my ear.

Even in the dark cab I could see his face, make out every curve and scar. I felt...elated.

I waited for him to respond.

"Does this feel like a dream to you? Like everything happened at warp-speed?" He had an intense look on his face that I couldn't seem to place.

I thought about it. We had both known, let alone actually _known of,_ each other for less than two weeks. We went from despising each other, to cautious acceptance, to curious meetings, to using police to hunt down place of residence, to kissing in the middle of a rainy street, to spilling our souls...or soul since I have yet to spill mine.

Was it fast? Yes. Was it wrong? No.

"Yes, it has all been a little quick," I admitted.

As if I had confirmed his own fear he nodded, solemnly eyeing our clasped hands.

Feeling slightly hurt, I began to pull my hand out of his. "If you are uncomfortable we can slow down and—"

I was promptly cut off when, before I even knew he was moving, Jace gripped my hand tighter and pulled me across the seat until I was nearly on his lap. His face was so close to mine that I could almost taste his lips. But neither of us moved, not giving the other an inch as we breathed slowly watching the others reaction.

In his eyes I could see confusion, anger, frustration, need, but above everything else, _me_. I felt as if I could actually see myself expressed as an emotion through his eyes. There was desire there too, as well as kindness, affection, maybe even the first few vestiges of love.

I felt relief. We seemed to be on the same page, same _word_ even. I squeezed his hand back.

As if that was all he'd needed, Jace growled low in the back of his throat before his mouth crushed to mine. His free hand came up and grasped the back of my head pulling me impossibly closer. Moaning, I brought my hand up, grasped his coat collar, and tugged him tighter to me. We got lost in each other, became deaf and blind to the outside world...

And just like that, the bubble was popped.

"We're here," the cabbie muttered, likely not liking our...display in the backseat of his cab. For his troubles, I watched, dumbfounded, as Jace slipped him an easy extra 20 and asked him to keep the car running, that he would be right back.

We slid out my door and he walked me silently to my doorstep like the perfect gentleman. His hair was still tousled from where my hands had been in it and his lips were read, eyes shining with desire. I figured I looked similar by the way his eyes were darting all over me.

"So, here we are," I murmured, though I didn't take my eyes from his.

He nodded slowly before he leaned in. The kiss was slow and sweet as he gently traced his finger over my jaw and clasped my chin. When he pulled back, the smile was still there. "When do I get to see you again?"

"Tomorrow?" I said hopefully, checking my mental calendar. "I get off school at three and I don't work until six..." I waited for his reply.

He seemed to be checking his mental calendar too. After a moment he nodded. "Can I pick you up from school?"

"You don't have to, I could just take a cab." I suggested.

He shook his head. "Give me your phone."

I arched my eyebrow at his request but passed him the phone that lay in my jeans pocket.

After a few moment of him silently _click_ing away he passed it back. "I programmed my number. Text me the name and address of your school and I'll be there, three sharp." Before I could object he leaned in and kissed me on the lips until I was dizzy from lack of oxygen.

When he finally let go of my hand it felt as if I was losing an essential part of my body. My hand felt cold and empty. As if feeling it too, Jace grasped my hand once more and placed a small kiss on the palm before gently folding my fingers in.

"Goodnight Clary Fray." His smile was brilliant as he turned around. I watched as he went down my steps and walked back towards the cab. He turned around once to wink at me before he got in the car and was gone.

"Goodnight Jonathan Wayland," I whispered quietly, smiling to myself as I pulled my keys from my pocket.

I heard a creak to my right and barely muffled a scream when I saw someone standing on the corner of the deck, leaning against the post.

"Simon, you scared the crap out of me." I eyed him. "Where did you come from?"

He took a step towards me. I couldn't read his expression but it didn't look overly impressed.

"Clary, why were you just kissing 'cool car guy'?" His tone betrayed him. He sounded pissed.

I was surprised. "Jace?"

He nodded, gaze closely watching my expression.

Seeing no reason to lie, I told the truth, or at least I _tried_ to.

"I went to his house to confront him, and well..."I frowned. "I don't know we went...out?"

My response seemed to confuse Simon just about as much as it confused me. "You went _out_? You told me when I got my brother to dig up his address that you wanted to get _even_ with the guy, not _ kiss_ him!"

I couldn't understand why Simon was reacting this way. His anger also paved way to revealing some of the other emotions he was feeling. The one that confused me most was the look of betrayal that hung clear as day in his eyes.

"Why are you here right now Simon?"

My question sobered him slightly. "I came by 'cause I wanted to know how the whole 'getting even' went." He smirked. "Guess I know now, huh?" Turning on his heel Simon headed to the end of the deck. But he stopped before he climbed over. Looking back at me his smile was sad. "I expected so much more of you Clary."

With that, he vanished over the side and walked out of sight into the darkness.

**Right-o! Well that's all I have in me for tonight (or this morning if you want to count it as such). I know that chapters have been short lately, But I just have so much I want to get down with a short window span of time to do it.**

**I hope you enjoyed it though :)**

**review and let me know what you think!**

**Goodnight Ya'll**


	21. Chapter 21: Jailbreak

**CHAPTER 21**

**Ok so I believe a "Welcome Back" sign needs to be hung by this point. I always hated when I read a story, got into it, and then found that the writer takes a REALLY LONG TIME TO UPDATE. I understand why now, haha, life sort of gets in the way some times—that and a terrible memory span that hold similar capabilities of a goldfish.**

**Okay, well then without a further wait, I present chapter 21. Unlike the others, this will be a split POV between Clary and Jace. It will bounce back and forth a few times—I just think that both are at a relatively pivotal point (which is quite tedious) so I figured it would be good to keep up with both of them for the next day.**

**CLARY'S/JACE'S POV**

Like most nights I found my sleep being barraged by images, memories, experiences, and feelings. It's hard to pin point any one scene or moment, so like most times I just sit along for the ride and hope to hell I don't find myself sprawled out on the cold hard floor come morning time.

When I did wake up, eyes still heavy from the intense dream that was quickly fading from the recesses of my mind, I find my eyes making contact with slanted yellow ones.

A dry "meow" was the simple reply as the cat turned his head, pointedly ignoring me as it went about its business cleaning every nook and cranny of its black paw.

I frowned. _Since when did Alec own a cat?_

Unlike the resolution I'd made last night, I had found myself back at Alec's place—or his couch to be more accurate. When I had arrived back at this house last night Alec had answered the door with a knowing look on his face. But he didn't say anything, just stepped back to let me in. Then he moved to his room, just to return seconds later with a pillow. Without another word I settled myself on his couch and he moved back into his bedroom.

And now here I was. Sprawled somewhere between the couch cushion and the carpeted floor. As I moved to stretch the cat paused its cleaning and eyed me warily. When I posed no threat, he again continued on with his daily cleaning. Once I was settled in a somewhat seated position I roughly ran my hands through my unruly hair.

I grimaced. I really needed to brush my teeth. I could still taste the cheese burger from last night at Carl's. The thought brought a smile to my face.

Clary.

I was partially still in awe. It felt like the entire night was one of my dreams. My smile widened further.

She didn't run for the hills, she didn't become disgusted, she just listened. Part of me was amazed—the part that was still only accustomed to the judgemental state most of the people I knew lived in. The sort of secured little bubble that was fortified by misconceptions, rules, and gossip. If Clary had been Alec I knew everything I told her would become morning news.

Alec was my best friend, and I know he wouldn't mean harm by it, but its just how he grew up. How _we_ grew up. Nothing ever stayed a secret long in the lives of the rich and famous—that's why therapists were as common here as miniature dogs. The only true silence was the one that was paid for.

I found myself frowning again when I realized that at the moment I seemed anything but rich. I was sleeping at my friend place with no real home to go to. Sure I had my car and I had my bank account—signs of richness if you considered the amount of money in both—but I had no home. No real place to call my own.

My bitter thoughts turned to Valentine. I had given him a chance last night and he had practically ignored it the same way this cat was ignoring me—with indifference and slight annoyance. My father, a title in which would never really be synonymous with Valentine, was, for all intents and purposes—dead to me.

Vicious, I know, but that's how I felt.

Rising from the couch I stretched my arms over my head and slanted my body side to side hearing it crack here and there as I yawned. The cat lifted its head, suddenly more aware of me now that it realized I was larger than I initially appeared. His eyes narrowed slightly before his rose to his own feet and scurried down the hall out of sight.

Scratching my stomach I looked around in search for something to do. My stomach's growling reply set my sights towards the fridge. But before I opened the door I noted that my phone was vibrating. Pulling it from my back pocket, I grasped it in one hand as I tugged the fridge open with the other. What I saw made me pause again. A huge grin splitting across my face.

**Good Morning**

The text message read, though my phone didn't recognize the number. But I knew right away who it was.

**Good morning beautiful :)**

I grabbed the orange juice from the fridge and placed two pieces of bread in the toaster. My phone vibrated again.

**:) Did you sleep well?**

I considered the question for a moment. My first response was to just give the regular: Yes, how about you? But for the first time I really wanted to _talk_ to someone. People speak to each other every day, but no one really says anything.

**It had its ups and downs. Though I am pretty sure I would have slept  
>a lot better if you had been here with me ;)<strong>

I smirked slightly. I could just imagine Clary's cheeks reddening when she read that. Her response was quick.

**Behave mister!**

Her two simple words had me grinning like a fool.

**We still on for today?**

As I waited for her reply I buttered my toast and carried my plate and cup back to the couch. Checking the time I noted that it was almost 9 in the morning so Clary was likely already at school. Listening I also noted that the house was quiet as well. Either everyone was still asleep or Alec and Isobel had already left for school.

School. The concept seemed so unimportant right now. I could barely fathom finding a place to stay for the next few days let alone learn algebra.

Getting an idea I grabbed the morning newspaper. As I laid it down on the table in front of me I could feel my phone vibrate again.

**I hope so :)  
>I can't wait to see you.<strong>

Her response was simple and to the point. That's another thing I loved about Clary, she didn't beat around the bush or play hard to get like every other girl I knew.

**I'll be there for 3.  
>Now shouldn't you be studying or something? :P<strong>

I settled back in the couch for a moment, anxiously awaiting her reply. I felt like a little kid waiting to open his birthday present. That's what every response from this girl felt like. _God she was right, I am a hopeless romantic. _I cringed slightly at the thought.

Her text came in.

**Ha! I could say the same about you mister.  
>And no, I am strategically pretending to be<br>interested in my math book while in all reality  
>I am using it a shield for my text messaging.<br>I am going to hell. Haha.**

I shook my head as I let out a little laugh.

**Well aren't you a crafty one?  
>Unlike you I decided to skip for the day.<strong>

Leaning forward I turned the newspaper to the Realtor section and scoured the apartment listings for the area. I could easily afford each and every one of the listings—that wasn't the problem. The only daunting thought I was having was the fact that except for these impromptu sleepovers, I had never truly been on my own. Ever. The realization was sobering.

My phone distracted me for a moment.

**Yes well not all of us can simply get by  
>on our good looks and charm :P Some<br>of us need to make a living—eventually!**

She had a point. In her world having a life was based upon the amount of work you were willing to put into making it. In mine it was simply just a matter of who you knew and how much money you had behind you—which in my case was a lot.

**Touché. But then again you could  
>always just marry a ridiculously rich<br>old man and wait until he dies to inherit  
>his millions :P<strong>

Her response was quick and pithy.

**You offering?**

I knew her response was playful but part of me sat in stunned silence. It took me a moment to shake myself from my thoughts. I reread the simple message and found myself blushing. Me, Jace Wayland, _blushing_.

* * *

><p>The moment I sent the text message I regretted it.<p>

I mean _what was I thinking?_

I bit my lip feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. I stared at my phone, waiting for Jace's response. The seconds ticked by slowly without a reply.

_Good job Clary, he is probably thinking you're some kind of crazy person._ I had meant it as a joke, but the moment I pushed the send button I reminded myself that typed words don't exactly convey emotions. So he might not see it as a joke.

I buried my face in my arm, glad I was hidden by my propped up textbook. The entire room was quiet but I could see a few other students mimicking me and using their books as a shield from the teachers view as they fiddled with their phones.

When my phone lit I held my breath as I looked at the screen. I exhaled in relief.

**Depends...are you intending on smothering  
>me in my sleep?<strong>

I could feel my face breaking out into a relieved grin.

**Perhaps. Though it would totally depend  
>on whether or not you snore. I can get pretty<br>murderous when it comes to snorers.**

As I hit send, a small smile on my face I could sense someone eyes on me. Looking up I was relieved it wasn't the teacher. However my heart sunk when I realized it was Simon. When my eyes made contact with his from where he sat a few seats down, I felt a sinking feeling in my chest. I couldn't read his expression—his eyes were guarded and his lips were set in a firm line. He dropped his gaze from mine and pointedly focused back on his work. I leaned forward and crossed my arms across my desk.

Ever since last night I had a bad feeling. I had texted Simon this morning, and he hadn't responded. He usually replied within a minute or two, but this time he didn't say a word. He also didn't meet me outside my house to walk to school with me as per our usual routine. I had even stepped over to his place to knock. When his mom answered she told me that he had left nearly ten minutes ago. I had walked to school alone and felt miserable. I didn't mean to hurt Simon, hell I didn't think me hanging around with Jace would get such a response from him. Simon and I had been friends for years, and not once has he ever been this distant with me.

I glanced over to where he was sitting. His head was still down and he was glaring at his book. He didn't look up once. Sighing I looked back at my phone. I had a message waiting for me from Jace. Since I had it on silent I had to check every couple of minutes for a message because I didn't want to risk the sound of it vibrating cluing my teacher in to my activities.

**Well I am a goner then.  
>Is it weird that I already miss you?<strong>

I smiled again, Jace's simple words lifting part of the weight from my shoulders. I could feel my heart warming and I was pretty sure I was blushing.

I knew I had no reason to feel guilty. I hadn't done anything wrong. Simon's anger was confusing to me and, in my opinion, misplaced. Plus, he couldn't ignore me forever—after all I am his neighbor.

My response was quick and simple.

**I hope not. I feel the same :)**

When the bell rang I felt myself jump a little bit in surprise. The hour went by so quickly. Grabbing my textbook I hastily shoved it into my knapsack which I tossed over my shoulder. Phone still grasped in my hand, I made my way out of the room and headed to my next class. I had that one with Simon as well. We would usually wait for each other but his attitude was bothering me and I didn't want to dignify it by grovelling to him for no reason. After all I didn't do anything to deserve this response.

Sure I told a little white lie as to my intentions for getting Jace's address—but who hasn't lied at least once in their life? It's not exactly like I make a habit out of it.

As I enter my next class, I take my regular seat in the back of the room. Just as I expected, when Simon enter the room he noted my seat and made a b-line in the opposite direction. I scowled at the back of his head. If he wanted to be childish two could easily play that game. Ignoring him myself, I pulled my English binder from my bag and propped it up much like my math text. Taking my phone out I gazed down at the screen. Jace had responded already.

**Good, thought I was going crazy for a moment.  
>So what are you doing right now?<br>Filling your mind with beautiful knowledge?**

I snorted. Looking up a noted a few people glaring at me.

_Whoops, did that a little too loud._

Ignoring my audience I looked back at my phone.

**Just snorted in the middle of class. The sound  
>was not appreciated. Haha. And sadly no<br>knowledge is being retained as I am too distracted  
>by your incessant messaging :P<strong>

I couldn't remember the last time I wrote so much in a text message. I am usually content with one or two word responses, but with Jace it's different. I have so much I want to say to him with no way of expressing it without paragraphs.

Though he doesn't seem to mind—thank god.

**Well then Miss Fray, that's just too damn bad.  
>Guess you'll have to learn to multitask.<strong>

Once again I can feel his words warming me. Part of me feels like giggling with childish glee while the other part wants to hug myself and simply bask in my happiness. I couldn't remember the last time I felt like this about anyone or anything. Instead I settled with a simple smile.

**Well Mr Wayland I guess I am going to have to.  
>Part of me wants to ditch the rest of the day and<br>spend it with you.**

I sighed again. I was so tempted.

His response was quick and to the point.

**What's stopping you?**

He had a point. It's not like I was paying attention anyways. I was here merely for appearances sake by this point. I felt a devilish smile creep over my face. I don't remember ever playing hooky for a day. The idea thrilled me.

**Nothing. Come?**

Once again his response was instantaneous.

**Be there in twenty.**

Woah, I was really gunna skip school. I looked carefully around the class as if my intentions were blatantly obvious. Without realizing my it I found my hand being raised high in the air.

It took her a moment but my English teach eventually noticed me. "Yes, Clary?" A few student raised their heads in mild curiosity—including Simon. He eyed me shrewdly. I ignored him.

"May I be excused? I am not feeling very good." I kept my face sober and tried to make my expression look a little bleak so it seemed more believable.

My teacher frowned at me but shrugged, either believing me or not really caring. Rising from my seat I hauled my bag over my shoulder and tucked my binder under my arm. Without looking at Simon I exited the room and resisted the urge to run down the hallway towards the exit.

When I stepped through the doors I breathed in a deep sigh of relief. Checking my phone I noted I had no messages from Jace so he was likely already on his way here. I still had about fifteen minutes until I expected him so I settled myself on one of the benches that littered my small school.

Pulling a book from my bag I settled back on the cool seat and flipped open the novel to my ear-marked page. In seconds I was immersed in the story.

******Alright! There we go (finally)**

**next chapter is coming right away :)  
><strong>

**I believe this was much overdue.**

**Ps. for those who are interested listen to "We dont't eat" by James Vincent McMorrow. Had this song on repeat while I was writing this :)**


	22. Chapter 22: Something New

**CHAPTER 22**

**See, as promised the next chapter ready to go :)**

**JACE'S POV**

When I pulled into the parking lot I spotted Clary almost instantly. She was sitting on one of the graffitied benches that were haphazardly placed around the schools front entrance. She looked focused and in her own little world as I pulled up. Rolling down the window I grinned over at her.

"Someone call for a jail break?"

Her head shot up and her eyes widened for a moment before they focused on me. Her smile was blinding. I watched her rise quickly from the bench and shuffle toward my car with her bag awkwardly slung over her slim shoulder.

As she opened the door and plopped into my car, she turned her eyes on me, mouth still grinning. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was windblown.

She was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen.

Her bag looked huge where it sat on her small lap. Reaching over I removed it and leaned over to place it on the back seat. When I looked back at her my face was so close to hers. She was watching me closely with the smile still lingering on her face. Closing the distance I placed my lips on hers. I felt rather than heard her sigh as she sunk into the kiss. I could feel her small hands come up and fist in the front of my jacket as she pulled me impossibly closer to her. Bringing my own hand up, I clasped it onto the back of her neck, and pushed my hands into her red waves. She was so warm.

When we separated to breathe, we stared silently at each other for a moment.

"Hi," she eventually murmured, heart in her eyes.

I laid my forehead against hers. "Hi."

We stayed like this for a moment before the sound of a ringing bell broke through the haze. We both jumped, slightly bumping out head together. After a second she laughed and broke out into another grin. I could feel my face mirroring hers.

Pushing the car back into drive, I headed out towards the exit. "So where to Miss Fray?"

She frowned and bit her lip. "Uhm, I was hoping you would have some sort of idea."

I laughed as I turned on my signal light to turn left. "Well I was going to save this for later, but I suppose we can do it now." I turned my head to look at her. She was eyeing me curiously. "Want to come apartment hunting with me?"

For a second her face showed alarm before it settled into relaxed lines of understanding. "Oh you mean for yourself."

I hid my grin. "Whatever did you think I meant?" I asked innocently.

She stuck her tongue out at me. "Decided Alec's place wasn't the comfiest?"

I nodded. "I was just staving off the inevitable. I can't stay there forever without becoming a nuisance, and I certainly can go back to live with Valentine—at least not if I have any hope in hell of remaining sane."

Clary frowned, brow creasing. "Is moving out on your own really a solution though?"

I considered her question. "Probably not, but it's certainly a temporary option, at least for now." I gave her an encouraging smile and her face softened.

In ten minutes we were crossing the bridge back to Manhattan. Beside me I could feel Clary tense slightly.

"You ok?" I placed my hand in her and felt her relax slightly.

Her nod was tight. "I don't know what it is about this place, I just feel like a fly in a spiderweb."

It was my turn to frown. "What do you mean?"

She looked at me, giving me a small smile. "Sorry, I know it's where you live; I just feel out of place here. I have always just been the girl that lived on the other side of the bridge, you know?"

My expression remained the same. "Is it really that bad?" I guess being used to it I hadn't ever really noticed.

She shook her head quickly. "No. It's just a sobering thought I guess. We are from two completely different worlds."

I didn't really like where this conversation was going. "Maybe I should look at apartments closer to you?" As soon as I said the words I could feel myself reddening.

Clary's eyes widened.

I quickly rephrased. "I mean I might have better luck finding apartments in your area rather than mine."

She relaxed slightly, though her eyes still looked slightly wary. Then she seemed to remember something. "Oh we have this old-looking apartment complex down near the record shop. It has like loft-style places. Lots of room and a really great view. Simon and I had gotten a tour of the place once a couple months back."

I eyed her for a moment silently before I smiled. "That doesn't sound too bad. I like big spaces." My response felt lame, but part of my brain was far too curious why she had gone looking at apartments with Simon who I remembered from candy store incident and again from me following her home that one day. I tried to hide my frown.

As if reading my mind Clary continued, "Me and Simon were bored one day and decided to pretend like we were prospective buyers. The woman that owned the complex didn't seem convinced but she humored us." Clary smiled at the memory. Then that smile slowly turned into a saddened expression.

"What's wrong?" I murmured, squeezing her hand slightly.

Clary shrugged. "Simon is mad at me."

"Why?"

She shook her head. "He was there last night when you dropped me off at my front door." She shrugged again. "I hadn't been entirely honest with him when I asked him to get his cousin to get your address. I had told him I wanted to get it to get even with you for the whole candy store incident..." She looked up at me, embarrassed.

I gave her a reassuring smile. "Well I can't fault the guy for wanting a little payback. I still fee like an asshole for that whole thing."

Her lips tightened. "Regardless, he got all angry at me when you left and said something like 'I expected more from you'. What does that even mean?" I could feel her tensing and her voice rose slightly. "Why is he trying to make me feel guilty? Did I do something wrong?"

I shook my head and let her vent out her anger into my hand—which she was squeezing quite tightly. She was deceptively strong.

She continued, "I mean Simon and I have been friends for years and not once has he ever acted like this." She pouted slightly. She looked adorable—though I was sure she wasn't aware of it. She turned to look at me and caught me staring at her. "What?" She seemed fully vented and her hand even relaxed in mine. Unable to resist I signaled and pulled over to the side of the road. Clary's brow creased as she looked around. "Why did we stop?"

Grinning, I undid my seatbelt, leaned forward and grasped her chin in my hand, running the pad of my thumb along her lower lip. Her eyes widened and her lips parted. Leaning in I placed my lips on hers. I didn't know what it was, but it was like I was a moth and she was the brightly shining flame. I slipped my tongue passed her parted lips. She sighed and leaned in, winding her hand into my hair. Angling my head I deepened the kiss and she responded instantly, bring her other hand up to fist in my hair. Reaching over I grasped her waist and tugged her closer to me. The only barrier was the armrest.

"Ow," she murmured against my lips.

Pulling back I looked down in surprise. She was awkwardly positioned between me, the seat, and her seat belt. It definitely didn't look comfortable. I gave her a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I got a little ahead of myself there."

Her smile was slow and shy. "No harm done." She ran her palm down my cheek. I noted that I had forgotten to shave this morning and there was still stubble on my face. Clary didn't seem to mind though. Her hand stilled as she tentively ran her finger over my lips. Feeling playful I allowed my tongue to dart out.

She laughed and leaned forward, giving me one quick kiss on the lips before settling back into her seat.

Grinning, I put the car back into drive and executed a quick U turn.

"Where are we going now?" She asked, confused.

"Well I was hoping you would direct me to this apartment you were talking about." My smile was shy.

She looked at me for a moment, biting her lip. Her eyes were light with humour. "I think I can manage that." Settling in her seat she directed me carefully and twenty minutes later we are stopped outside a large—definitely old—building. I look doubtfully at her.

Clary smirks. "Don't let the exterior fool you." Undoing her seatbelt she opens the door and pulls herself out. Following suit, I exit the car and lock it. Coming around to her side I grasp her hand in mine. She squeezes it and looks up at me with a reassuring expression.

"Ready?"

I nod, and turn my gaze back to the building. Moving towards the front door I can't help but note the crumbling bricks, the graffiti-filled walls, the broken glass widow above the front doors which looks like it stood during two world wars and barely survived.

Clary squeezes my hand likely noting my doubtful expression. "Keep an open mind," she whispered.

I nod again. Reaching for the buzzer I hold the button down until I hear a woman's voice on the other line. "What?" her tone is clipped and clearly annoyed.

"I was hoping you would be available for a tour. I am currently looking for an apartment and a friend suggested your building." I look down at Clary. She smiles back up at me.

The woman is silent for a second before I hear the answering buzz and the click as the front door unlocks. Hand still in Clary's we move into the building. After a second we are greeted by a short Italian woman with brown hair and eyes, likely in her late forties. She eyes me speculatively then her gaze lights onto Clary. She frowns and i can see she recognizes her.

"This is for _serious_ inquiries only." Her gaze is pointedly on Clary who turns beet red.

I clear my throat which makes the woman's shrewd gaze turn to me. "I am the one interested." I make my tone hard as I arch an eyebrow. "Of course if you are already filled to capacity I can always look elsewhere..." as I move to steer Clary back towards the door the woman takes a hasty step forward.

"Sorry, of course I am available for a tour." Her tone is forcibly bright. I give her a smile and I note the blush rise in her cheeks.

"That would be lovely. After you," I say, gesturing towards the elevator that I can see at the end of the hall.

For a moment she seems confused before understanding dawns. "Of course," she stammers slightly and leads the way. Clary and I follow close behind. I look to my right and she is watching me with a barely concealed grin. I give her one back as we enter the large freight-like elevator. The woman pulls down the gate and closes us in. For a second I have the overwhelming feeling of confinement until the elevator begins to move upwards. It moves steadily without any stuttering—which is reassuring. Clary squeezes my hand.

Out of the corner of my eyes I can see the Italian woman sizing me up as a potential renter. She seems to like what she sees and settles more comfortably into her stance. When we reach the fifth floor, the door opens to a wide hall that has two visible doors, one on either side. Stepping out we follow her down the hall. She stop at the door on her right.

"Currently this is the only loft we have for rent. Two of the other empties are being renovated—this is the only finished one. She gives me a dry smile as she opens the door. Opening it wide she gestured me and Clary forward. Stepping in I find myself wide-eyed and surprised.

Clary was right, there is a _huge_ amount of space and it is all basically open concept. Moving further into the room I take a good look around. The entire room is in a rectangular shape. The are large floor-to-ceiling windows covering three of the visible walls. The floors are solid wood and I can smell them to be recently polished. There are a few support posts scattered throughout the room, all nearly a foot in thickness. The walls transition from painted drywall to open brick—something I have always admired. The kitchen, which stood to our left, was brand new with black on silver titanium. It had a large island in the middle with held a large solid wood top. Down to my right I could see an iron spiral-winding staircase that led to the visibly open second floor. I assumed that that was where my bedroom would be. Below it was a closed off area that I assumed to be the bathroom. Looking up, I could see into the rafters. They were high up; at least twenty feet.

I loved it.

Looking down at Clary I could clearly see she felt the same. Her grasp tightened in mine.

Giving nothing away, I turned to the woman. "Is this place available?"

She nods, short brown ponytail bobbing up and down. "Yes. I have a few interested buyers come by though, so if you want this place you need to make me an offer." Her smile is all teeth. She clearly still thinks we are screwing with her. I nod. "What's the current bid?"

Her smile flattens for a moment, eyes shrewdly eyeing my expression, likely trying to see if I am being serious. I keep my face blank. After a moment she shrugs. "Current offer is three hundred thousand."

I hear Clary sputter and practically choke beside me. I keep my face calm. "I'll give you three fifty."

The woman's eyes widen, eyes practically dinging with dollar signs. After a second she composes herself. "I'll need a check up front."

I gaze steadily at her. "And I'll need keys."

She nods her head quickly. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Clary staring at me, jaw wide. I hide my smirk. Pulling out my check book, I quickly scribble off the amount. I look up at the woman for a moment. "And who should I make it out to?"

Her expression is confused for a moment before she realizes. "Oh sorry, Mary Haggarty."

I nod again, adding her name to the check. Ripping it off I pass it to her. "I am sure we can discuss the specifics later?"

Once again she nods quickly, practically throwing the keys at me as she moves towards the door. She is likely headed straight to the bank to see if the check will bounce. I know for sure it won't, but it is still a funny sight to see the speculative looks she was giving me. If this were Manhattan no landlord would even blink.

When we are left alone in the room, door soundly closed behind Mary. I finally let my smile break through. I look down at Clary who is still staring at me with an amazed expression. "Well that was easy," I murmur.

Clary shut her mouth immediately and bent forward, letting out a loud hoot of laughter. Her entire body shakes as she releases my hands to balance herself. When she calms herself and straightens she looks at me. "I can't believe you just did that!"

"What do you mean?"

She shakes her head. "You just _bought_ this loft Jace. Like actually _BOUGHT_ it. You only walked in here for one minute and just gave that woman more money than I have ever seen in my entire life."

I shuffle on my feet, all of a sudden feeling self conscious. "Sorry?"

Clary laughs again then leans forward and clasps me behind the neck. Going on her tiptoes she plants a kiss on my lips. "You are amazing." She shakes her head again. "You are really going to live here?"

I nod. "That's the idea."

Her smile is slow. Stepping back she sweeps herself in a circle, gaze taking everything in. When she stops she looks back at me. "Can I help you decorate?" Her eyes are bright with excitement.

I can feel myself relax. "I was hoping you'd offer. I am hopeless when it comes to this stuff." Feeling relieved I move around the large space. Heading to one of the large windows I look out over the area. From where I am standing I can just see the outline of Manhattan in the distance. Clary comes to my side, placing her hand in mine.

"It's a beautiful view," she murmurs. I nod in agreement, turning my eyes to her. She tunrs her face up to mine.

Leaning forward I place my lips lightly on hers, deepening it when she brings both arms up around my neck. With Clary by my side I escape. I am starting new. Starting over. I am going to live my life the way I want to—need to. No Valentine and no memories of my mother haunting me in every room.

I sigh, and lean my head against Clary's.

"Thanks for coming with me."

I can feel rather than see her answering grin. "It was my pleasure."

Turning our heads, we both gaze out on the horizon. Ahead is possibilities and new beginnings. I can feel it deep in my bones.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life.

**And there you go! okay so, once again no promises of when the next chapter is coming. All I ask is you be patient and bare with me!**

**Ps. lemme know what you think and I am always open to suggestions! :) Everyone have a good night/day!**


	23. Chapter 23: Friends

**Chapter 23**

**Sometimes I am really glad it is summer time. Though I am working full time and have little to no real time to myself, except for late at night, things just seem less grim.**

**CLARY'S POV**

_I am running. I am not sure where—it doesn't matter. No. It doesn't matter. All that matter is that I get away. Far away._

_My shoes slap against the cold hard concrete, the noise echoing off of the invisible walls around me. It is all so dark. I feel so cold. The temperature making my body feel lethargic, I know my pace is slowing._

_But I keep moving. Am I being chased? I can't remember. Am I heading in the right direction? I have no idea. All I know for sure is that I cannot stop._

_If I do, that will be the end. My end. My undoing._

_My final crescendo._

_Suddenly I feel rather than hear movement behind me. My legs turn even more sluggish and I know I can't keep up this speed much longer. Fisting my hands I give it all I have._

_It's not enough._

_The blackness envelopes me. My last sight is a shadowed figure in my distance. He is almost indistinguishable from the darkness around me. His arms are outstretched, beckoning to me._

_The darkness swallows me whole._

I wake with a start, blankets clutched tightly to my chest. Images of cold hard darkness still linger. Shaking my head I press my palms to my eyes.

_Just a dream Clary, that's all_.

It just felt so..._real_.

I shudder for a moment pulling the comforter tighter around my chilled body. Glancing at the clock I note, with some distaste, that it is only 4 a.m. Frowning I lay back down, settling myself into my pillow. After a few minutes I realize sleep isn't in the cards for me, at least not while I am this wired. Sighing heavily I turn onto my side and reach for my phone. Detaching the charger cord I pull it to my chest, resting it on my stomach as I wait for it to power up. When the screen comes to life I can't help but wince as the sudden brightness hurts my eyes.

Seconds later my screen blinks with a notice of a new text message. Anxious, I open it and settle even further into my pillow, large smile on my face.

Jace.

**Hey babe, so this will be my last night  
>at Alec's, thought I'd commemorate the<br>moment with him. Little drunk, not gunna  
>lie. I thank god for auto-correct. Sometimes.<strong>

I can't help but let out a little giggle. I frown. The sound is still slightly unfamiliar to me. I have never really been much of a giggler—if that's even a word. In fact I practically snarled when an overly perky girl giggled. It always screamed: I'M A BLUBBERING IDIOT.

I am such a hypocrite.

My mind moves to another interesting thought: Jace drunk.

Checking the time it was recieved, I grin when I realize it was sent less than twenty minutes ago. I quickly respond hoping he is still awake—or coherent enough to reply back.

**Why Mr Wayland, light weight are we?  
>Ps. Never thank auto-correct for anything.<br>It is practically the spawn of Satan.**

Tucking my phone near my chin I settle myself in, letting the soft light from my phone lull and relax me. After a couple of minutes of silence I can feel my eyes becoming heavy. Then a sudden buzz makes me jump. I look down at the screen.

**Hey you should be sleeping!  
>Though you do have a point.<strong>

I type a quick reply.

**I can say the same to you :)  
>Behaving yourself?<strong>

I feel a goofy smile come to my face. I never thought in a million years that I, Clary Fray, would ever be flirting with a guy by text message. Another first for me.

I liked it.

The goofy smile widened when my phone vibrated again.

**Yes. It appears that Alec is babysitting  
>me. I'm slightly wrecked. I miss you.<br>Did you know it take me less than 30  
>seconds to chug a beer? I didn't know<br>that until tonight. I'm like superman.  
>Only without the cape. Maybe a bed<br>sheet...**

I shake my head.

**Well then thank Alec for me. I suppose it's  
>better than you texting me from a ditch. Where<br>are you by the way? Also, Superman? Really?  
>I would have thought Bruce Wayne would have<br>been more appropriate :P**

My eyes are getting heavier and I am finding it harder to keep them open. I hold off sleep though, wanting to read Jace's reply.

**Best not to bother Alec, he seems quite  
>cross with me right now. It might be because<br>I puked on him. Whoops! And I am on Alec's  
>couch...again. Oh BATMAN!<br>Nanananananana Batmannnn**

I roll my eyes and reach over to plug my phone back into the charger so it won't be dead in the morning. But before I settle back in for sleep I send Jace one more text.

**Alright Batman, sadly I need to sleep. I'm  
>glad you are enjoying yourself though :)<br>Stay safe and I'll see you soon.**

Closing my phone I place it onto my nightstand, turning it on silence. I can read Jace's reply in the morning. Smiling to myself I close my eyes and drift away into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>As I headed down the stairs, bag in hand, I found myself with a smile on my face. It was odd. I considered frowning about it for a moment but realized that I had nothing to frown about today.<p>

Smile still on face I headed towards the kitchen. Lucas was at the stove frying something.

"Smells good," I said, taking my seat at the table.

Lucas turned to look at me, a smile lighting his face as well.

Well aren't we all a smiley bunch today.

"Your mom is still asleep so I figured I would take the initiative and make breakfast this morning." His eyes flashed down the hall towards their bedroom for a moment before they came back to mine. He leaned towards me. "I am hoping she will give up on her desire to make breakfast every morning," he whispered conspiratorially.

I smirked. "Doubtful."

As if on cue, my mom emerged from her bedroom wrapped in a housecoat instead of her usual overalls. She smiled at me as she moved towards the kitchen. Then moving to where Lucas was standing she leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheak.

"Morning everyone, seems I am the only one having a late start to the day," she sighed.

"And that's why man invented coffee," Lucas replied handing her a steaming mug.

"Ah, the way to a woman's heart." She took a sip, closing her eyes as the let the caffeine wake her up. Then she looked at me. "So what's on the agenda for the day?"

I shrugged as she took the seat across from mine. "Same old same old, I have school today then I was hoping to hang out with Simon..." I couldn't help my frown.

Cocking her head to the side my mom considered me for a moment. "Still giving you the cold shoulder?"

I had told Lucas and my mom about how Simon was behaving towards me. Though I may have altered the story slightly. I didn't feel like explaining Jace—not yet at least.

I nodded glumly. "And what's worse is he won't even look at me when we are in class. I am literally sitting two seats from him and he doesn't glance up, not even once!" I let out a frustrated sound as Lucas set the plates on the table.

"Maybe he just needs some time," Lucas offered.

I shrugged again. "I just wish I knew what I did wrong." Slumping against the table I shoved my face into my hands, scrubbing hard.

My mom patted me on the head. "Honey, men are from Mars, that's what my mother always told me."

"Hey," Lucas muttered. "I have to stand at defense for my gender and say that women are from Venus and many have been known to bite off a man's p—"

"I get the point!" I said throwing my hands up. I couldn't help but snort out a laugh. "Seriously Lucas, you can keep that little tidbit all to yourself. I get your point."

Grinning widely, Lucas ceremoniously plopped our omelettes on our plates. "Good, now eat up."

* * *

><p>I was almost at the front doors of the school when I noted Simon sitting on a bench off to the side. And he wasn't alone.<p>

I dragged the depth of my memory to put a name to the face.

_Meaghan...Mona...Mia...Maia!_ I recognized her now. Maia Roberts—Simon's dreaded lab partner. I never really noticed before, but she was actually very pretty. As I continued walking I noted that they were sitting quite close together and she was smiling at something he said. Neither noticed when I walked by. I didn't know whether to be hurt or curious.

Shaking my head I moved through the doors and headed towards my locker. I could feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. Pulling it out I glanced down at the screen and instantly images of Simon and Maia together fell from my thoughts.

**I don't know if I should laugh or apologize**

It was from Jace.

**Hmmm...**

I didn't elaborate. Perhaps I could make him sweat for a bit. Smirking I opened my locker and pulled out my binders for my next two classes. My pocket vibrated again.

**Hey go easy on me, one's liver  
>can only take so much abuse!<strong>

I let out a laugh, ignoring the attention it brought.

**:) No worries, you seemed to behave  
>yourself well enough last night. At<br>least that's what I gathered from what  
>I read lol<strong>

Tucking my phone back in my pocket I headed towards my first class. But before I reached it a hand stopped me. Turning I was surprised when I found Tyler standing beside me.

"Hey," he said, smiling brightly.

"Oh, hey Tyler," I replied awkwardly.

He didn't seem to notice. "So I hear you and Simon are on ice."

_What does 'on ice' mean?_ "Uh, what are you talking about?" We were now stopped in the hall near my classroom door.

Tyler shrugged, blond hair falling over his right eye. Today he was dressed in a black t-shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. "Just heard that you and him were over."

_Over...?_ "Tyler I don't really know what you are talking about. Me and Simon just had a fight, that's all. Not that it's really anyone's business to begin with."

Holding his hands up in defence Tyler smiled. "Sorry, word just travels fast in this place."

I scowled. "What do you mean by _over_? Simon and I are just friends, so I don't really get why a fight would be such a big deal to people."

Tyler eyed me for a moment. "Wait, so you are telling me that all this time you and Simon have only been _friends_?"

I stared at him blankly. "Uhm, yes... why would anyone think otherwise?" I was confused now.

"Well for starters there is always the age old rule that guys and girls can't be friends..." he looked at me as if this should be painfully obvious. But before I could respond he continued, "That and I have never seen you with anyone else."

"Of course guys and girls can be friends," I couldn't help but snap at him. I was quickly going from confused to angry now. "Tyler what does this have to do with anything? Why are we even talking about this?" I resisted the urge to tap my foot with impatience.

Tyler was silent for a moment. He shoved his hand in his pockets and seemed shy all of a sudden. "I just figured that since you and Simon were currently on the outs that I could get an in."

_What is it with all these slang terms? Is it so hard to use proper terms these days?_ "Can you please translate that into English?"

Tyler reddened slightly and I got an uneasy feeling in my stomach.

"I was hoping that since you are available now that maybe we could go out sometime?"

I could practically hear a penny drop down the hall. _Oh crap._

"Uh..." I could feel my own cheeks redden. "Listen Tyler, you're a really nice guy but I don't really think that's a good idea."

His face fell. "Oh..." He looked down at his feet. "Do you mind if I ask why?"

_Because I am taken_. "I have just never looked at you that way I guess." I was at a loss for words. "I always just saw you as a friend."

After a moment, for some reason, his face lit up. "Well then I guess I'll just have to change your perspective of me." With that he turned on his heel, stride almost determined as he headed away from me down the hall.

_That was weird_. Shaking it off I closed the last few meters and slipped into my classroom. I was clearly late but the teacher didn't even bother looking up. Grabbing my seat in the back I settled in, noting that Simon's usual seat was empty. Before I could think about it my phone vibrated in my pocket. Setting my book up in its usual fashion, I settled into my seat to read the message.

**Regardless I would like to apologize  
>for my dumb drunk texting, it was<br>quite a long night for me. But on a  
>brighter note, I'll be seeing you<br>soon :)**

I quickly responded.

**I didn't mind, promise. It was actually  
>quite entertaining to tell you the truth!<br>Yes, you will be :) And I get to help you  
>paint!<strong>

Closing my phone I let my mind drift.

Tyler was confusing me. And how many people thought me and Simon were dating? Or more importantly _why_ did they think we were dating. And what's all this rubbish about boys and girls as friends? Sure I have seen countless occasions when such things have failed, but it's not like it is out of the realm of possibility. Right?

I didn't like that thought.

I considered my response to Tyler for a moment. I had told him I didn't see him that way—which was definitely true—but my first thoughts had been that I was already taken.

But am I?

Sure Jace and I have been hanging out a lot lately. And he is a good kisser—a _really_ good kisser...but it's not like anything is official. We have never broached the topic of _us_—at least not in the conventional way most couples do.

_Does Jace even want to be with me in that kind of way? Or are we just having fun?_

These thoughts were quickly making my head hurt.

All I really know is what I feel. His emotions, however complicated they may be, were still foreign to me.

Closing my eyes I rubbed my forehead. I really needed to stop over thinking everything.

* * *

><p>When the bell rang for the end of the day I still hadn't seen Simon.<p>

For a moment I considered texting him, but brushed the thought off when I realized he probably wouldn't respond even if I did. I felt as if I had done all I could, it was time to let Simon decide the next move. Until then I guess I would just have to wait.

Walking out the front doors I noted Tyler standing with a bunch of his friends. When he caught sight of me he waved, grin on his face. Not wanting to be rude, I gave him a small wave back. I watched him say something to his friends before he headed towards me.

Crap. I took a quick look of my phone. Jace was supposed to be here any moment to pick me up.

"Hey again," Tyler said as he saddled up beside me.

"Uh, hey." I didn't really know what else I was supposed to say back.

"Where are ya headed?" he asked, still not giving anything away.

"To go paint an apartment," I muttered, not really knowing where he was going with this.

"Oh yea, who's?" He turned to look at me, eyes expectant.

The sight of Jace's car stopped me from saying "None of your damn business."

Though he wasn't driving his dad's Camaro, Jace's Mustang still stuck out like a sore thumb—especially among all the rag-tag cars that usually entered the school parking lot. It was so out of place in fact that I noted quite a few students staring in both amazement and curiosity—Tyler included.

When the car pulled up in front of where I was standing and Jace stepped out, I couldn't help but grin like a loon. When his eyes lit on mine an answering smile moved to his beautiful face. Jace was dressed in a pair of black jeans, and a light blue button down shirt. His hair was a little messy but that just made him look sexier. I could feel eyes on us but when Jace stood in front of me it was like he and I were the only ones on the planet.

Yes, cheesey I know.

But to hell if I cared.

"Hi," I finally said, still smiling. The way he was looking at me practically made my legs turn to jelly.

"Hi," he murmured taking my hand in his. Giving me a little tug he pulled me into a kiss. His lips were gentle yet urgent as we both sunk into the embrace. I let my hands move into his hair as his moved down to hold tightly to my waist. Opening my mouth beneath his I felt his answering smile as his tongue delved into mine and moved along my lips. When we finally broke apart out of need for oxygen I could feel myself redden when I noticed Tyler was still standing beside us, jaw practically hanging open. I ignored him and let Jace open the door to his car for me.

"After you," he whispered, gesturing me forward.

Smiling I took a seat and waited for him to get in as well. When he did I finally let myself take a good look around. Practically everyone in the parking lot was staring at us. Part of me was embarrassed, especially with our little PDA action on the sidewalk—but another part of me, the more important part, didn't give a rat's ass.

Turning to look at Jace I was awed by his breathtaking smile. Putting my grasp in his he pushed the car into drive and we swiftly pulled away. Seconds later my school was out of sight and out of mind.

**Alright that's all for tonight :)**

**Next chapter is Jace's POV. Have a good night/morning!**


	24. Chapter 24: Let's Paint

**Chapter 24**

**Let's just say I have never desired to paint a bedroom more than I have right now...**

**JACE'S POV**

As we pulled into the parking spot I could feel my phone vibrating. I mentally cursed as I ignored it for the umpteenth time. I knew who it was, and frankly I didn't have anything to say to either of them.

Last night—of what I can remember—held a few...unwanted decisions. One of which was currently calling me non-stop. Sighing I sat back in my seat.

"What's wrong?" Clary asked, concern in her voice. I shook my head, forcing a smile to my face. She looked at me doubtfully, but didn't push it. Stepping from the car I came around to her side and opened the door for her. "You know, I have these two limbs called arms." she waved them in front of me in emphasis.

I smirked. "Sorry, old habits die hard." I gave her an impish smile.

Grabbing my chin in her grasp, Clary came up on her tip-toes and planted a loud kiss on my lips. "What am I going to do with you?"

I grinned. "I can think of a few things..." As I reached for her she danced out of my grasp, playful smile on her face.

"Uh-uh, we have work to do," she said, shaking her finger at me.

Resigned, I grumbled but followed her to the front of the apartment complex. Taking out my key I stuck it in, wiggled it, and heard a satisfactory groan as the heavy door slowly slid open. Stepping inside Clary and I headed hand-in-hand to the freight elevator.

"So how was Alec's last night?" Clary asked, tone seemingly innocent.

I wanted to laugh but I figured it would hurt my head even more. When the elevator jerked to a start I winced. "From what I can remember it was good," I provided. I was still too hung over to think about it too hard.

"Here," Clary said as she dug into her purse. She held out her hand to mine and dropped two Advil's into my palm. Then she reached back in and handed me a water bottle. At my amazed expression she shrugged. "I figured you would need it."

I stared at her for a moment longer before popping the welcome pills into my mouth and taking a large chug of cool water. Wiping my mouth I grinned down at her. "Next thing I know you'll be pulling a whole umbrella stand out of there."

Clary flicked me in the arm. "Hey I am no Mary Poppins thank you very much!" She crossed her arms over her chest, but a small smile skirted across her lips. "We're here," she murmured as the elevator came to a stop. Lifting the hatch we both ducked under and headed down the hall to my door. Unlocking it we stepped inside at the same time.

And for a moment we both simply stared.

"Those movers you hired work quick..." Her tone was awed.

I couldn't blame her. Not ten hours ago this entire space was empty of everything but dust bunnies. Now there was a flat screen television on the wall bordered by two large book cases, two chocolate brown leather couches in front in an L shape, a large kitchen table with equally large chairs, rugs, light fixtures, side tables, clocks, dishes, and decorative knick-knacks. Hell I could even see a small tree off near the window. Some of the furniture was still covered by moving sheets, but most had been unpacked already. I guess when you give a decorator a limitless budget they tend to go all out.

"It looks totally different with everything in it," Clary murmured, taking a step forward.

I followed. Looking to my right I also noted that somehow the crew had managed to get a large king sized bed up onto the visible upper floor along with a wardrobe and various other items. I eyed the winding stair case then the huge bed skeptically.

As if reading my thoughts Clary said, "how do you suppose they got that up there?"

I shook my head. "No idea...but I definitely don't think I paid these guys enough." I chuckled, turning to look at her. Clary's eyes were lingering on the bed for a moment too long. When she noted me watching her she flushed and turned bright red.

"Uh, I see they also brought us the paint," she said hurriedly, moving towards the three paint cans that were laid upon canvass sheets along with rollers and paint brushes. "Let's see what we have." I watched as she kneeled in front of the cans and pried them open one at a time to reveal the three colours. She looked up at me. "Nice choice's Mr. Wayland."

I winced. "Mr. Wayland is my father, I'm good with Jace."

Clary nodded, not commenting. "Well we have blood red, midnight blue, and..." she turned the lid in her hand, squinting at the name. "Gossamer pink." She stared up at me. "Wow Jace, never thought you to be a gossamer kind of guy."

"What? That can't be right." As I moved towards the cans Clary let out a loud snort of laughter.

"I'm just kidding Jace, this one is Suit grey, no worries." She didn't bother hiding her smirk.

I narrowed my eyes at her. Slowly I dipped down and grabbed a paint brush. "Well Clary," I murmured softly, taking a step towards her. She watched me speculatively. Eyes dropping to the brush in my hands. I grinned. "I guess it's time for you to suit up." With that I quickly dunked the paintbrush in the can and then proceeded to swipe paint down her cheek.

Stunned, Clary stared at me, mouth and eyes wide. "I can't believe you just did that!" Grabbing her own brush she dunked it in the red and rose, taking a menacing step towards me.

I held my hands up in surrender. I tried not to laugh at the large dripping grey mark that was swiped like battle paint down her face. "I surrender, waving the white flag!"

Clary quirked her eyebrow. "Oh yea?"

I nodded quickly, though I couldn't stop my smile.

Without warning Clary lunged at me, grabbing my around the waist and knocking me, along with her, to the ground. Air knocked from my chest, I barely had time to register when Clary straddled me and painted a large red line from my chin to my chest.

Tapping her chin with the end of the brush, she considered me for a moment. "You know what, I think red really suits you." She grinned down at me.

This time it was my turn to raise my brow. She let out a squeal of laughter as I grabbed her legs and flipped her over, rolling with her until I was positioned above her, hands clamped above her head. "I think red could be your colour too," I said as I rubbed my painted chin against her, spreading the paint here and there over he face.

Struggling beneath me, Clary squealed with laughter as she tried to wiggle out of my grasp. "Jace! I surrender! I surrender! Uncle!"

Slowly stilling I grinned down at her, triumphant smile on my face. We stayed how we were for a moment, heart rates slowing at first then slowly picking up speed as a new form of excitement started to build.

Clary's eyes widened slightly and her lips parted. Her hands no longer fought mine and they remained restrained above her head. Leaning in, I tentatively placed my lips against hers.

I started out slow, just whispering my lips back and forth, barely making contact. I could feel Clary practically stop breathing. Not willing to wait any longer I pressed my mouth to hers, plunging my tongue between her parted lips. I could feel her shift beneath me, body straining to get closer to mine. Hands still above her head I let my free hand travel down her arm and grasp her thick hair. Clary let out a moan as her tongue found mine, dueling in earnest.

When I felt her hands fight my grasp I let her go. Then, before I knew what was happening, Clary hooked her leg under mine and promptly rolled us over so she was above me. Leaning forward she grasped my face and proceeded to kiss me again, hardly giving either of us a chance to breathe. Yanking me up with her we remained on the ground, her sitting in my lap as my arms clamped around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer to me.

I groaned when she bit my lip and tugged just a little bit. Her hands were tightly wound in my hair as hers came down like a red curtain around us.

A sudden vibration stopped us.

Since my phone was in my front pocket and Clary was so tightly pressed against me we both felt it go off.

"Fuck," I muttered, letting go of her just enough to pull my phone out of the pocket. Not willing to let her leave, I grasped her tightly around the waist as I pressed _talk_ on the screen and lifted it to my ear.

"What do you want?" I muttered, holding eye contact with Clary. She looked beautiful. Her skin was flushed and her lips were swollen and red. Her eyes were watching me with a mixture of desire and curiosity. She didn't seem willing to let go of me either.

Jones' voice broke through my trance. "Jonathan, where are you?"

I frowned. Jones sounded concerned. "I am in Queens, why?" Like hell I was giving him my new address. Knowing Jones he would feel a little too obligated to give it to Valentine. My mood darkened momentarily at the thought. As if sensing my unease, felt Clary run a warm hand over my lips. She held eye contact with me and let a small smile play on her lips.

Now I _really_ wanted to hang up.

Jones was silent for a moment. "Jace your father is...worried." His tone sounded uncomfortable.

I rolled my eyes. "Jones, my father never gets uncomfortable, he gets angry—which he can stay for all I care." Without waiting for a reply I hung up my phone. Tossing it onto the couch I wrapped my arm back around Clary. "Now where were we?" As I leaned in I was surprised when she stopped me by pressing her finger firmly to my lips.

"Jace, how does your father have your number?" Her tone was concerned.

Sighing I shifted, getting us a little more comfortable. Play time was over. "Well, yesterday after I dropped you off, I went to the phones store and grabbed a new phone. I didn't feel like continually using a disposable." I shrugged as I gestured to the new iPhone on the couch. "Anyways when I was programming all the numbers I added my father's cell along with Jones' just in case I needed them for some reason. Then after I got totally shitfaced last night I found myself calling my father." I shook my head. "Don't ask me what I was thinking, cause I have _no_ idea."

Clary reached over and patted my cheek. "Did he pick up?"

I shook my head again. "No, thank god. I got his voicemail and left a message I can only remember half of. I think I said something about him being a controlling jackass and how I was moving on...something along those lines."

She smiled. "So basically things you can't say when you're sober."

I thought about that. "Ya, basically. I guess you're right. Anyways I think I droned on for like five minutes before Alec found me and made me hang up." I shrugged. "I guess he some how managed to get my number from the message, hell maybe I even gave it to him—I don't know." Closing my eyes I sighed. "Perhaps I'll just change my number again."

"Or perhaps you should just have a sober conversation with your father?" Clary suggested.

"Not ready for that just yet," I murmured. Leaning forward I kissed her on the nose—which still held traces of red paint. "Shall we get to work?" I asked, brow raised.

After a moment of watching me, Clary slowly nodded. Rising to her feet she held out a hand and tugged me up with her. Looking around, Clary's cheeks managed to turn almost the same shade of red that was on her face. "We made a mess!"

She looked over at me, expression horrified. I couldn't help but laugh. She was right. There was red and grey paint all over the place—though luckily most was on the white protective sheet. I could see a few small specks on the hardwood but I didn't mind. They could always serve as a little reminder...

"Why are you smiling like that?" Clary demanded, clearly still freaking out.

Reaching out I pulled her too me and planted a warm kiss on her lips. I held her there until I felt her relax and sink into me. When she seemed to be calmed down I pulled back and looked down at her. "Don't worry about it, I mean it." Grasping her chin I kissed her once more and then grabbed her hand, leading her back towards the paint cans.

"Now, let's paint."

**Hoookay, there ya'll go!**

**And like I said earlier, now I really feel like playing with some paint...**

**Haha, oh well dreams they shall remain, for now.**

**Have a good night, and hope you enjoyed this chapter. The next will come when it comes! :)**

**Review and lemme know what you think!**


	25. Chapter 25: Everything

**Chapter 25**

**It's SAPPY TIME! :) I think you guys will really like this one.**

**CLARY'S POV**

Letting my arm move in one final swipe, I rested my hand on my hip, paintbrush in hand.

"I think that's the last of it," I murmured, looking up and down the wall. I glanced over at Jace with a satisfied smile.

He nodded. "Job well done Miss Fray."

My smile turned into a grin. "Didn't do too bad yourself. Though, I think you might be wearing more of the paint then what you put on the wall."

Jace shrugged, the action drawing attention to the large stains of blue paint that marred his light blue shirt. Actually, he had paint almost everywhere. His sleeves, where they were rolled up to reveal his forearms, were covered in paint, as were a few stands of hair. His jeans had large swatches of grey and red and his bare feet had drops of all three colours on them. I wasn't much better off, but most of it had been from our little...wrestling session.

The thought made my cheeks pink.

Jace's smile was slow when he noted my look. "See something you like?"

I reddened further. "Maybe." I took a look back at the painted walls. It had taken us most of the day to finish all three walls. Checking the clock I noted it was nearly ten at night. Half way through Jace had considered just hiring professionals but I had refused. I wanted to do something with him—other than making out. Though that was great of course...

I frowned, some of the confusion from earlier edging its way back into my mind.

"What's wrong?" he asked as he placed his paint bush in the tray and took a step toward me.

Feeling shy all of a sudden I opted for a shrug.

Jace raised an eyebrow. "You may not believe this, but I can tell when something is bothering you."

I shrugged again, not meeting his eyes. From where I was looking at the floor I could see his bare feet finally come into view.

Finger under my chin he pulled my face up into his view. He looked at me curiously, golden eyes concerned. "Tell me."

I knew I couldn't with him touching me. Pulling way I moved towards the couch, taking a heavy seat and tucking my feet underneath me. He took a moment to follow me but when he did he gave me my space. Positioning himself on the coffee table in front of me, he leaned forward and clasped his hands together, elbows resting on his knees. By the strain of his jaw I couldn't tell whether he was nervous or angry—though the latter seemed unlikely.

It took me a moment to gather my thoughts. "A friend of mine asked me out today." I pulled at the hem on my shirt, not wanting to look up at him. He was silent for a moment.

"What did you say?" he finally asked, voice low.

I willed myself to look up at him. "No, of course." I took a long look at Jace. His position looked relaxed but his jaw was still tense, arms unmoving, and hands clasped a little too tightly together.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked, tone giving nothing away. His expression was blank. Cold.

In that moment I wanted nothing more than to lean forward and hold him. Just hold him. But I pushed that thought away. "The point I am trying to make is I said no to a decent guy, but when he asked why my mind screamed 'because I am with someone else' while my words said 'because I only see you as a friend'." I searched his expression. "Do you see where I am coming from?"

Jace was quiet for a moment. "You want to know if this is real?" his eyes softened, slightly.

I nodded slowly. "What are we doing Jace?"

It was like his entire body took in a big sigh of relief. I don't what he expected, but whatever it was was obviously much worse than this. "This question I can answer," he murmured as he shuffled forward off the table and knelt unexpectedly before me. Hooking his hand behind my knees he pulled me forward but made no further contact. "Clary Fray, you are amazing." At my widened eyes he reached towards me and briefly brushed my cheek. "The way your eyes go so wide when you are surprised, the blush that rises on your cheeks when you're embarrassed, your ability to dance in public and not give a damn who is watching, your selfless and generous attitude, and your constant concern for everyone...it's refreshing."

Sighing he gently touched my hand, twining his fingers in mine. "We grew up differently—something I will admit. Where you had a home I had a house, where you had a family I had cold empty rooms filled with working late's and last minute spa leaves. No one's eyes widened in surprise because they, at 18, have already seen everything there is to see. No one blushes because they have already done everything and more, the need for embarrassment becoming a foreign concept. Dancing in public is not only unacceptable but will be seen as 'inappropriate behavior'. Homeless people are regarded much like lampposts—and inevitable part of the city that is of little consequence to them. It's every man and woman for themselves. Their are no real friends, just connections to be used and exploited at every whim."

Jace looked down at our clasped hands, lifting mine to his as he laid a small kiss on my knuckles. "Clary you are like my escape. You are everything I didn't realise I wanted—_needed_." He looked up into my eyes, holding my gaze captive. "You want to know what we are doing?"

It took me a minute but I managed a small nod, eyes welling with tears. "We are doing _everything_. We are teaching each other, learning from each others experiences and living how we want to. We are being together in the only way we know how to right now. I can't give you any promises—no one can. But I want to be with you in any and every way you will possibly let me." He reached forward, brushing away one of my tears. Then he laid his palm flat to my cheek. "I never want you to doubt what you mean to me—which is more than anything or anyone I have every been with. I don't simply want you, I _need_ you Clary, something I will admit without hesitation." His eyes dropped as he looked down at our clasped hands. "I have not had the luxury of loving many things in my life, but I am more certain of this than I have been of anything in my entire life. I love you, Clary."

My breath hitched as I stared down at his head. His face was out of my view so I tucked my hand under his chin and lifted his face to mine. His eyes held a mixture of sadness and hope. The damns broke and the tears began sliding down my face in earnest. His eyes widened as he leaned forward, futilely wiping the dampness from my cheeks with his thumbs. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have pushed all that on you at once, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he kept repeating, a slightly panicked look in his eyes.

His panic made me smile. He noted my expression and stopped speaking. The hope lit his eyes once more, but he made no further move towards me. The rest was up to me. Leaning forward I pulled his face closer to mine. "Never apologize for your feelings," I murmured, resting my forehead against his. I watched as he closed his eyes in relief. I kissed his nose. "I love you too," I whispered softly.

At my words his eyes flew open, though he kept his forehead on mine. What I saw in his eyes made my heart melt. Pure untainted joy. It almost reminded me of a young boy at Christmas time.

In his excitement he crushed me too him in a hug that left little room for breathing—but I didn't care. I held on to him just as tightly, taking in everything that was Jace. When his lips found mine, they held on with new purpose. His mouth slanted over mine as he held me tighter to his body. I lifted my hands to his hair, gripping it as I held him to me.

When he released me he pulled me to my feet. When he began leading me to the winding staircase I couldn't help but tense in panic. Likely feeling my resistance, Jace looked down at me and gave me a breathtaking smile.

"I would never do anything you didn't want to. I am ready when you are. Right now, I just need to hold you for as long as I can."

My answering smile was just as bright. Allowing myself to be lead, I kept my hand firmly in his as he guided me up the staircase to his bedroom. From this high up we had a balcony view of the entire apartment. It looked wonderful. Hand still in mine Jace pulled me closer to him and simply hugged me for a moment. Head tucked under his chin I breathed in his scent, content with the vanilla laced with paint. He could smell like a wet dog and I likely wouldn't care.

Kissing the top of my head Jace released me long enough to move to his dresser. Pulling out sweats and an over-sized t-shirt he handed them to me and then pointedly turned his back. Smirking at the gesture I quickly stripped and pulled on the large but clean clothes. These smelled like him to. When I tapped him on the shoulder he turned and looked down at me.

"I like how you look in my clothes," he murmured, tugging at the oversized t-shirt. The sleeves fell past my elbows. Without another word he pulled his shirt over his head. At my surprised look he paused.

It gave me an uninterrupted moment to look at him. Jace's body reminded me of the swimmers I always saw on tv; long and lanky with well-defined muscle—but not too much. His chest was bare of hair but there was a little line of it that went from his navel then out of sight down the waist of his jeans. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks and my mouth went dry. Averting my gaze I looked back at his eyes.

The expression on his face was pure male. Leaning forward his chastely kissed me on the forehead. "You have a similar effect on me," he murmured. At my doubtful expression he held my chin. "Never doubt how beautiful you are Clary Fray." I blushed for the umpteenth time. Kissing my nose he gestured me towards the bed. Getting on I tucked myself under the dark red covers and settled myself in.

Jace pulled down his jeans and quickly pulled on a pair of sweatpants over his boxers. Opting to go without a shirt he got into the bed beside me and tucked himself against me. Positioning himself onto his side, I did the same.

For a moment we simply laid there staring at each other. The discovery of love between us was new and uncharted. Feeling a little shy I was the first to drop my gaze. But to compensate I linked my hand in his, lifting his knuckles to my lips. Jace watched me quietly, eyes entranced by my actions. Leaning forward I kissed him gently on the lips. "I love you Jace Wayland," I whispered.

His eyes softened. "I love you Clary Fray."

Hands clasped, nose to nose, we slowly drifted off.

**Okay, there ya'll go. This is like my "feel-good" chapter. And I think it was much needed. It's like a stepping stone in their relationship, and I think they needed this to truly be able to move forward.**

**Have a good night and don't forget to let me know what you think! If you are new to the story Welcome! If you are committed returnee, I add an extra explanation point to your Welcome!**


	26. Chapter 26: Interruption

**Once again a bit of a wait. For that I apologize, but I also say two things: "Absence makes the heart grow fonder" and "The best gratification is delayed gratification."**  
><strong>:)<strong>  
><strong>Any who, here is chapter 26! I hope you enjoy!<strong>

**CHAPTER 26**

**JACE'S POV**

The sun was bright.

Or it must be 'cause there was no other reason I could be feeling so warm. Behind the shield of my lids I warily contemplated opening them. It didn't seem worth it. But when I heard a soft sigh near my ear they flew open in surprise.

She was still there. Clary's face was so close to mine I could practically count her eyelashes. I stayed perfectly still, not wanting to wake her. In sleep she looked much younger. Her freckles became charmingly apparent against her pale skin while a soft smile the lined her face in sleep made a small dimple I'd never noticed play at her left cheek. I wanted so badly to touch it. Feel the small dip on with the pad of my thumb.

After a moment I understood why I was so warm—but not uncomfortably so. Clary was wrapped around me like a vine. Her small hand was gripped onto the hip of my sweatpants as if holding me still, while her other hand was innocently pressed against my bare chest right above where my heart lay beating. Her one leg was hooked around mine and the other was invisible where it lay under the blanket which had mostly been kicked off the bed.

I have never been more comfortable in my life. Part of me wished I could stay like this forever. After a few moments, as if sensing my steady gaze, Clary slowly opened her eyes one at a time and I was once again treated to more of her natural beauty.

"Hi," she murmured sleepily, cuddling impossibly closer to me. Her forehead now touched my chin. With it so close I took the opportunity to kiss it gently. She purred beneath me, letting out another soft sigh.

"Hi yourself," I whispered against her skin. When she looked up at me this time, her gaze altered. As if pulling me, I was tethered to her. My arm came up and gently brushed her hair from her cheek while our gazes stayed locked. My hand slowly travelled down her neck to her shoulder, then proceeded down to her waist where I massaged the flesh that was exposed above her sweat pants with my thumb. My sweatpants.

"I love you," Clary whispered so softly I almost didn't hear her. I could practically feel my heartbeat stutter at her words. With her palm still placed firmly above my heart, I knew she felt it too. Her smile was slow and warm. Her hand that was gripped against my hip tugged me closer. "Kiss me, Jace."

Moving closer I kissed her nose. Then I slowly moved my lips to her temple. Then her cheek. I kept kissing her face, moving my lips over every surface but her lips. I smiled when I felt her hand move from my hip to my hair. Opening my eyes I looked into hers. She shook her head at me and released my hair for a moment to tap a finger tip against her lips.

All too willing to oblige, I leaned in and pressed my lips softly to hers. Sighing into my mouth, Clary's grip went back to my hair. Her leg that was still over mine hooked and pulled me closer. The kiss was soft, searching almost. There was still so much to learn about each other. But still already so much we _did_ know. I felt more at home with Clary than I ever had with anyone or anywhere. It was a revelation that had me deepening the kiss and gripping her waist a little tighter.

Clary didn't object. Parting her lips she allowed my tongue access. After a moment, before I knew it, she was rolling over me until her front was firmly pressed against mine. When she needed to breathe, she drew back and rose above me, smile playing at her lips. I gazed up at her, smiling myself.

"I like waking up to you," she said, brushing her fingers lightly against the stubble that was on my cheek.

I pressed my own hand against hers then kissed her palm. "Me too," I murmured with my lips still pressed against her flesh. I smiled when a small shiver ran through her body. Bringing my free hand up, I tucked it behind her neck and pulled her back down to me. Tucking her head below my chin, I kissed her crown and wrapped both my arms around her.

"I don't want to leave," Clary sighed, nuzzling her nose into my neck and breathing in.

I sighed as I began running me hand slowly up and down the curve of her spine. "Then don't."

I felt her head shake. "I don't have that luxury like you do Jace." She lifted her head, her eyes holding mine. "You even admitted it. We come from two different worlds." She brushed my cheek once more with her hand. "If I want a future I have to work hard for it, I didn't have the kind of money and power your family does." She pressed her finger against my lip when I tried to speak. "Not that I fault you for that. Your independence is one of the things I live about you Jace." She kissed me lightly, lips lingering for a moment before she pulled back. "A big part of me wishes I could just stay here with you forever, escape and stay in our little bubble."

"I don't want you to leave," I whispered. I knew once she left and I was alone in this place that the reality of my life would sucker punch me and knock me flat on my ass. Was I being selfish? Probably. "I love you Clary Fray."

Her smile was slow, but was so bright I felt myself mimicking her. When she leaned down to kiss me again, a large banging knock echoed through the wide open space of the loft. Then another and another. Pausing, I saw the frown on Clary's face appear. I felt my own as I leaned up, still holding her on my lap.

"Maybe it's the landlord?" she suggested, eyes turning towards the direction of the knocking.

"Why wouldn't she just call?" I muttered, reluctantly setting Clary down beside me on the bed. Rising I pulled my pants up and moved toward the stairs. "Stay here," I said to her as I headed down towards the door. "Hold your horses, I'm coming," I muttered at the ceaseless banging. When I yanked the door open on a curse, I was stunned then slightly annoyed by what I found behind it.

"Don't look so happy to see us!" Alec said as he moved past me into the room. Isabelle took her time coming in, eyeing me up and down. I wished I put on a shirt.

"Hi Jace." She practically purred my name as she moved past me, purposely brushing her shoulder against my chest. I rolled my eyes.

"What are you two doing here?" I asked, tone tense. I looked up from where I stood, but I couldn't see Clary. I frowned and turned my gaze back to brother and sister.

"Thanks for the warm welcome," Alec responded back, though he was smiling as he looked around. "This place is sick." He whistled before he looked at me. "You never would have guessed by the way it looks out side." he shook his head as if the image he saw disturbed him deeply. He moved around the space. "Jace Wayland, slumming in Queens. Who woulda guessed?"

I shrugged. "It's better than me crashing on your couch every night." And I smirked at him. "Plus I am not 'slumming'."

"Potato Pot_a_to," Alec murmured absently. He headed over to the kitchen and opened the fridge. "Dude, you really need to get some food up in here!" He proceeded to open surrounding cupboards In hope to find some form of sustenance.

Isabelle was wandering around the living room, she paused after a moment to speculatively eye the empty paint cans and the minor paint marks on the floor. I felt a smile tug at my lips when I recalled Clary's and my little wrestling match. I think I could call that an even tie.

"I didn't know you knew how to paint." It wasn't a question but I opened my mouth to answer anyways. A voice behind me spoke instead.

"He doesn't, I had to do most of it," Clary said. I turned instantly to look at her, as did the other two pairs of eyes in the room. She had gotten changed into her own shirt, but I found myself grinning when I noted she was still wearing my sweatpants. She blushed slightly when she caught my gaze.

"Who are you, the help or something?" Isabelle asked, tone slightly piqued.

Clary reddened further. I turned and narrowed my eyes at Isabelle. "Really?" Was all I said.

Understanding fully, She merely shrugged and eyed Clary with blatant dislike. As a response I held my hand out to Clary and kept my eyes on her face until she crossed the room and placed her grasp firmly in mine. I squeezed once in hopeful reassurance. "I would like you both to meet, Clary Fray."

I could feel Isabelle eye us both, gazing moving back and forth. I ignored it, though I could feel Clary growing more and more tense. I leaned in and kissed her cheek, then quietly whispered, "Ignore her." Clary looked up at me and nodded slightly before moving slightly closer to me.

I turned towards Alec, finding it odd that he had remained quiet during the exchange. Instead of staring at Clary with confusion like I'd expected, he was staring at me in a sort of wide astonishment that border-lined amazement. When he noted my curious gaze his face fell and hardened into unreadable lines. His lips pursed.

"Seems we interrupted something," he said curtly. His tone had my eyebrows rising. If he noticed he didn't show it. "Come Isabelle, best we get going, maybe we can make it to school on time." His eyes turned to mine briefly, turning colder, then he promptly went through the door, not waiting to see if Isobelle was following. She did, after a second of blatant confusion. She left with a glare at Clary and an overly suggestive smile for me. Then the door was closed and the loft was quite, save Clary's and my breathing.

"That was...uh, awkward," Clary supplied as she tightened her arm around my waist, breaking the silence.

It took me a moment to answer, as my eyes were still glued to the door where Alec had exited so suddenly. Then I turned down to look at her patient gaze.

"Sorry about all that, I honestly don't know what that was about." I frowned, eyes drawn back to the door. After a moment I shook my head. "So what would you like for breakfast?"

Clary let out a laugh, body relaxing almost instantly in my arms. "Jace, we both know there is nothing in that fridge of yours. You really need to go grocery shopping." She snorted when she noted the expression on my face. "You've never been in a grocery store before, have you?"

I shrugged, giving her a sheepish smile. "I never had to." I felt lame saying it. But it was the truth.

Shaking her head in mock disgust, Clary moved towards the couch grabbing her purse.

"What are you doing?" I asked, stomach falling as I figured she was going to leave.

"I'm not doing anything. _We're_ going grocery shopping."At my horrified expression, Clary merely tossed me my jacket and moved towards the door. "Come on Jace. If you want to live and survive in Queens, I'm gunna have to teach you a thing or two." Her smile was quick and beautiful. "Welcome to my world Mr. Wayland."

**Alright! That's all you guys get for now! I am tired for once and am going to take advantage of it! Hope you enjoyed it and don't fret, there is more where that came from (though it is often slowly produced). Ta-ta for now, and review to let me know what you think!**

**:)**

**Ps. for those who are always willing to discover something new and enlightening, Read "The Hollow Men" by T.S. Eliot. It is truly a beautiful piece of work.**


	27. Chapter 27: Frosted Flakes or Cheerios?

CHAPTER 27

**Okay, so it has definitely been a little while. To tell you the truth I hadn't sectioned off time to update, which puts me in the "you suck" category. But I got an email from Jordy that prompted me to get my ass in movement. So I can't say the same won't happen again, but I can say that caome hell or high waters, I WILL FINISH THIS STORY!**

**So enjoy ;)**

CLARY'S POV

It was like watching a young boy who was visiting the zoo for the first time; as if his eyes couldn't take everything in. They darted about, barely lingering for a second before they sought out something new.

"I have never seen so much _food_," he said in an awed voice.

I couldn't help a small giggle. He didn't notice, still too fascinated with the scene before him.

Such a comment, for some, would make them think this was someone who was born homeless and in poverty and just came off the street and stepped inside a grocery store for the first time ever. But nothing could be further from the truth—at least with the poverty part. Jace, for all intents and purposes, could likely buy the entire grocery store. Right now. With cash.

Ok perhaps I am exaggerating...a little.

I pursed my lips as I watched him look at the thirty odd brands of cereal that covered the metal shelving that ran in long evenly spaced rows. I had never really thought much about grocery stores myself. They were convenient, sure, but I had never considered them anything overly special.

Jace's expression made me look again.

Jace was the embodiment of confidence—except for now of course. But even in a place far beyond his usual comfort zone, you could tell even without the wide fascinated eyes that he didn't exactly belong in a small local grocery store in the middle of Queens. With his silent power that seemed to roll off him in waves, he commanded attention even when he wasn't seeking it. You might not be able to notice upon a single glance, but if you looked close enough you'd note that people would move just a little further from him when they passed by him, as if he had some sort of invisible barrier that ensured a safe distance between him and...us.

I quickly shook the thought from my head. Jace was different. He may have grown up privileged, but that wasn't his fault. As is such a think could be considered a flaw in the first place.

"So you come here often?" he asked, sounding slightly shy.

I grinned, pushing the thoughts from my head. Nodding, I grabbed two boxes of cereal off the shelf. "Frosted Flakes or Cheerio's?"

He stood in stunned silence, eyes flashing back and forth between the boxes. You would think we were diffusing a bomb and trying to figure out which wire to cut.

I began to hum the jeopardy theme song.

"Shush," he murmured, though his eyes softened. "Sorry, I really have no idea."

"Jace, it's just cereal."

He reddened slightly and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I know. I just have never picked any before. I know it sounds lame, but every morning there would just be a container of cereal in the cupboard. We never ran out...of anything for that matter." He frowned.

My expression mimicked his. "So you never had one of those annoying moments when you run out of milk for your cereal?"

He shook his head.

"Huh." I looked at the cereal boxes in my hands. I held up my left. "Cheerio's. Definitely the safest bet." I tossed it in the cart I was pushing.

We pressed on. "Okay, what about snacks?"

"Like cookies?" He grabbed a box from the shelf.

I nodded. I watched as he tossed it triumphantly in the shopping cart. The smile that lit his face reminded me of pure, untainted joy.

I didn't comment. "What else do you want?"

His smile faltered and he looked around the vastness of the grocery store. "Uhmm..."

I smirked. "What have you always craved but your mother would never let you have?"

"Nothing," he answered almost instantly. Though his expression visibly saddened.

I shook my head. "There must have been something. Every little boy is denied _something_ during his youth—even spoiled brats." I side stepped a swipe, sticking my tongue out. "But seriously."

He stood for a moment, arms crossed over his chest, expression serious. "When I was 8 my mother wouldn't let me eat popsicles; she said they were too full of sugar. So she would give me these substitute 'popsicles' that were supposed to be healthy for me, but they tasted like ass."

I snorted at the grimace that covered his face. "Popsicles, really?"

He nodded.

"Alright, let's go find you some popsicles."

It took us over an hour, and a few 'what about this' moments, and a whole lot of arguing over him not being able to survive on only red meat and cookies, before we made it to the register, vegetables and fruits in tow—of the ones that survived. On the way to the till I'd noticed Jace strategically removing a vegetable here and there, replacing it with junk food. At one point I actually had to slap his hand.

"Stop! You're worse than a kid in a candy store."

He leaned in and kissed my cheek when I continued to pout. "Hey, without candy stores I never would have met you." My pout softened into a small smile. Then the reminder of the candy store brought Simon to my mind. Noticing my expression, Jace touched my arm while we waited in line.

"What's wrong?" His eyes searched my face.

I shrugged. I would have brushed it off, but I didn't want to. Not with Jace. "I'm just thinking of Simon. He is still not talking to me."

Jace nodded, placing my hand in his. "If I were him, I don't think I would be able to stay angry at you for more than a few hours. Amazing the poor kid has lasted this long."

His efforts brought a slight smile to my face. "Oh, Simon can hold a grudge. Once when we were ten I tripped him during a game of soccer and he didn't talk to me for an entire week." My smile faltered. "I need to talk to him. I just don't know how to get him to listen."

"You'll find a way," Jace murmured as we stepped up to the register. The bored looking teenage girl brightened significantly when she noticed Jace. He didn't even look away from me.

"Speaking of temperamental best friends, what was that this morning with yours?"

"Who, Alec?" he murmured, slightly distracted as he watched the girls hands move the food over the scanners, the beeping noise accompanying them.

"Well I am assuming he wasn't the leggy brunette who was practically undressing you with her gaze." I reddened slightly when I realized I said that aloud. My words got both Jace's as well as the cashiers attention.

I reddened even further.

Jace's smile was slow as he gazed silently at my face. When he moved closer he nuzzled his nose against my heated one. "Jealous already?" He kissed my forehead.

"Maybe," I muttered, annoyed with myself. I was not this kind of girl. I wasn't...was I?

Paying the bill with his credit card, it only took another minute or so to bundle the bags between ourselves. Heading towards the door, Jace bumped my shoulder with his own. "You don't have to worry about any other girl Clary. Ever."

The seriousness of his tone and the intensity of his eyes made me blush for a different reason. I dropped my gaze kept quiet until we got to the car. Popping the trunk, we placed the grocery bags in. But before he could reach up to close the it, I grabbed the lapels of his jacket and yanked him down to my level. The kiss was fast and hard, he barely had time to react. Before I could pull away he caught me and hauled me up against his hard chest, holding me tightly to him. His tongue sought mine even as his hands thrust into my hair. By the time we broke apart we were both breathing heavy.

"I love you," I managed on a whisper as I still fought to catch my breath.

"Jesus, I love you too," he muttered, breathing just as heavily.

After a moment we both started laughing, bending at the waist at the ridiculousness of everything. Once we caught our breaths and rose, I had to wipe a few tears that had been forced from my eyes. I was grinning like an idiot—Jace's expression mirroring my own.

"I think we have an audience," I noted, gesturing to a frightened looking older couple who had literally stopped with their car doors open just to watch the scene. Feeling awkward I waved at them. They shook their heads quickly and scuttled into their old silver caddie. Jace reddened slightly as he moved to the side of the car, opening the door for me.

Getting in the other side, he quickly pushed the key in the ignition and turned on the heaters. "Who would have thought I would be a fan of PDA?" he murmured, chuckling slightly.

"Same," I said, rubbing my hands together, trying to warm them. Once we got going, Jace placed my hand in his and we headed home.

* * *

><p>When we finally finished unpacking all the groceries I fell onto the couch, exhausted. Jace followed suit, almost crushing me as he pointedly lounged on top of me. I giggled as his face nuzzled my neck and he blew on my ear. After a moment we settled with a content sigh.<p>

With his arms wrapped around me and head on my chest I took advantage of his position and began running my hands slowly through his hair. It was smooth and smelt like only Jace smelt. I felt him sigh again as he tightened his arms just a little more.

"Before we got side-tracked, I asked about Alec." I kissed his hair. I lowered my voice."Was it me? Did I make him want to leave?"

I felt him stiffen slightly before he turned his head and captured my gaze. "Do you want honesty or sugar-coated honesty?"

"Honesty," I answered without hesitation. It was the best policy, after all.

He sighed. "I figured as much." He frowned, forehead creasing as he gathered his thoughts. "You may have blindsided him a bit..."

"What do you mean?"

"Uhm..."

I could feel his hesitation. "Honesty, remember?"

He let out a slight grunt. "I may not have...told him about you."

That had me stiffening. He felt it. Tightening his arms, he held my eyes with his.

"Are you embarrassed by me?" I couldn't keep the hurt from my voice.

His arms tightened further when he felt me attempting to push him away.

"Never." He stated, voice firm. I stopped struggling for a moment.

"Then why am I secret? Why haven't you told your _best friend_ about me?" I muttered, looking at the ceiling when I could no longer handle his steady gaze.

I felt his hand rise and pull my chin down until my eyes were once more locked with his. "Because I am a selfish bastard and I want you all to myself." He continued to hold my chin as I watched him silently. "I don't want to share you, not even with my best friend. I'm scared that if people know about you..."

I held my breath as I waited for his answer.

He sighed. "I'm scared that who I am and who I surround myself with will scare you away."

I let out my breath as well. Leaning forward I kissed him softly. The kiss held none of the flare as the one before but it was just as powerful. "Thankyou for your honesty," I murmured, running my finger down his cheek. "But you need to know nothing from who you are or who you were will scare me away. You're too dang important to me."

Jace settled his face back against my chest. More comfortable, he continued. "Alec and I grew up together. We have been friends for as long as I can remember. Like you and Simon, we are never far apart." I felt rather than saw him shrug. "I think he might be a little jealous of you."

I was quiet for a moment, slightly stunned. "Why would he need to be jealous of me?"

"Because you have all of my attention," he whispered as he kissed my neck. "It has always been Alec and me. But ever since everything that has happened with my mother then my father, things have been different. I don't see him every day now. In fact, I think today was the longest time we've spent apart. It sounds weird, I know, but a best friend is a best friend."

"Believe me, I understand that feeling." I began stroking his hair again. "Is there anything I can do?"

He shook his head. "Alec will come around, he always does. He just might need some time to be pissed off at me before he does. Either way, I'm not letting you go anywhere." To emphasize his point he tightened his arms around me.

Once again we settling into comfortable silence. Slowly drifting off into sleep; Jace with his arms wrapped around me, my hand resting gently in his hair.

**There we go. That is all for now, hope you liked it!**

**Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. Also for those who are interested, check out "Chalk Outline" by Three Days Grace. LOVE IT!**

**Night night for now :)**


	28. Chapter 28: Lies

**Chapter 28**

**Heyy guys, so it has been a LONG time. But I found myself with some time today (I'm a little sick) and I checked my email. I had some updates about people following my story and read some reviews. Im sorry to all those who had to wait this long for me to update, but here it is! I had to re-read a bit of the story before I wrote this, since it has been so long, but I had luckily save notes so I still know which way I am going, so no worries! :D**

**So this is our Lovely Jace's point of view, hope you guys enjoy :)**

**Jace's POV**

We both awoke to the sound of steady buzzing.

"Wha—" Clary began, her words being cut off from her unexpected yawn. She didn't bother to finish.

By the time we straightened, untangling our limbs from each other, the noise had stopped. I blinked a few time, clearing my visions before I lifted my wrist and stared at my watch until the numbers became readable. "Its two already," I murmured, shaking my head and extending my arms in the air for a good stretch.  
>I saw Clary grimace from the corner of my eye when my spine cracked in three loud pops. I grinned and leaned over to kiss her on her nose.<p>

Her hair was sticking up every which way and her cheek held a creased impression of my jackets zipper which she had evidently been sleeping on.

"How long did we sleep for?" she murmured, obviously still groggy.

"About three hours or so," I gouged, knowing we came back from the grocery store around eleven.

She nodded. Then after a moment a horrified panicked expression covered her face. "Crap! Crap crap crap!" she flew up form her position on the couch and began frantically searching the cushions, pulling them up and tossing them then rustling through the bags and coats that were now on the floor.

"What's the matter?" I asked, worried.

Clary ignored me, repeatedly saying crap until she seemed to find what she was looking for. Holding her phone like it was the Holy Grail. Seeing it, reality began to set in.

We both stood frozen, staring at her phone. Then as if by command, it began buzzing once more. Clary's gaze flew up to mine as she mouthed the word "mom", as if she could hear us. I nodded.

Fixing her hair—as if it made a difference—Clary stood up and flipped open her phone. In an overly cheery voice, she answered with "Hey mom!"

After a moment I watched her smile slowly drop. I couldn't hear what was being said on the other end of the phone, but it couldn't have been good. Not knowing what else to do, I remained still where I sat on the couch.

"Yes I know, I know," Clary said, as she began to pace around the living room sofa. I watched her with my eyes. "I am sorry I forgot to call you…yes I know I didn't text either." She winced. "Mom, calm down, I am alright." She paused for a moment, eyes widening slightly. "The school said _what?" _She listened quietly for a few more moments. "That's just ridiculous, I am safe and I am with—" she paused for a mere second, eyes flashing to mine, "—Simon."

My heart sank for reasons I didn't fully understand.

She continued, "Mom you don't have to worry. I wasn't feeling well so I ended up staying at Simon's place over night. Yes, we have worked through our issues," her expression turned sad, but her voice stayed steady. "Yes, I am sorry I didn't tell you, it was my fault, I wasn't thinking." Clary sat back down on the couch, though she sat a little further from me. "No there is no need to call Simon's mom, she is at work remember," Clary said a little too hastily. After a moment, a relieved look lit her face and she settled further into the couch. "Thanks mom, I'll tell him. And yes Ill make sure I drink plenty of fluids and get some sleep. Love you too. Tell Lucas I love him…bye." The snap her phone made when it was closed was the only sound in the apartment, save our breathing.

Shaking her head, Clary laid her head back against the couch and closed her eyes. After a moment, she let her left eye peak open and looked towards me. She blew out a breath. "That was a close one."

I simply stared at her for a moment. Then rose without a word and moved towards the kitchen. With a little more force than I intended, I wrenched open the fridge door and simply stood in front of it, staring at the food that now filled its once empty shelves.

"Jace are you ok?" Clary asked from where she still sat on the couch.

"Just fine," I muttered back, still staring into the fridge as if it held the answers to all life's problems.

"You know, you may not believe this," Clary began as she rose form the couch and began moving towards me, "but I can tell when something is bothering you."

The corner of my lips only lifted slightly as she threw my own words back at me. I still didn't respond even as she stood right beside me and peered over my shoulder into the fridge.

"If you want answers to questions, sometimes its better to direct them towards something that will respond with more than just cool air and food." She was trying to make a joke, but I couldn't seem to respond with more than a senseless grunt.

When she wasn't getting a good enough response form me, I let her pry my hands from the fridge doors and allowed her to close them and move in front of me. So instead of staring into the fridge, I was staring into her eyes.

"Much better," she murmured, not moving any closer to me. She stood silently, holding my gaze, allowing me to take my time to sort through the thoughts that were weighing on me like a two ton brick.

Cruel mean words came to the forefront of my mind, my lips practically forming around them.

But before I spoke them, as if reading my face, Clary placed a warm hand against my cheek.

"Talk to me Jace," she whispered, making no more contact.

All the cruel words fell away. My eyes closed and I leaned forward until my forehead rested against hers.

_I am not my father._

"Why did you lie?" This is what I needed an answer to.

Clary's hand slowly fell from my cheek and her eyes fell. When she tried to move away, I braced both my arms on either side of her, until she was forced to back against the fridge. Our face were less than a foot apart. I searched her face, her eyes, even as they avoided my own.

"Clary?"

Letting out a breath, Clary looked down at her fidgeting hands. "Jace, I have something to tell you."

I didn't bother responding, just waited for her to speak.

She looked up at me, biting her lip. "I had no right to be angry with you when you told me that Alec didn't know about me."

I searched her face, but didn't know what to say.

She continued. "I may not have told many people about you either." Her attempt at a smile fell quickly at my silence.

She looked around for a moment, as if trying to escape my impenetrable stare. When she found nothing, she sighed, settling into the fridge. "I am not going to lie and say I never had any opportunities to broach the subject, I just…" she looked up into my face, eye pleading, "I didn't know _how_." Her gaze dropped once more. Then when my mom called, freaking out because I never called her and she didn't know where I was or why I hadn't gone to school… I panicked and I guess it was just easier to say I was with Simon."

She didn't notice with her face down, but my face softened.

Clary continued, "I am not this girl…or maybe I am." She shook her head. "I have never _felt _ like this before. This is all new to me…everything feels new to me when I am with you. I see you and I get butterflies, I trip on my words, my thoughts are all fluffy and cute." Her face rose to mine, but she was lost in her thoughts. "I woke up this morning to you looking into my face with nothing but love and I felt giddy...and excited, and nervous…." She leaned forward, and grasped my face between her hands. I didn't dare move. "I love you Jace Wayland, and I love everything you make me feel…and maybe….I don't want to share you either. Not with my mom, not with Lucas, not with Simon." Her thumbs ran over the hair by my ears. "Not with anyone."

Tears began welling in her green eyes.

She gave me a watery smile. "Guess we are both pretty selfish, huh?" Clary signed when I didn't respond and dropped her head.

I stared at the top of her head, feeling overwhelming love. My arms relaxed and my face softened into a smile. Moving one hand, I reached down and lifted her chin. When her eyes were level with mine, I leaned forward, holding my gaze with hers, and gently placed my lips against hers. They tasted salty with her tears.  
>Before she leaned into the kiss more, I pulled back. Her expression fell.<p>

"It's time that we change that, Miss Fray."

"What do you mean?" her brow raised as I brushed a tear from her cheek.

"Maybe its time to let people know about us."

Her eyes searched mine, uncertain. "Are you sure?"

I nodded, more reassuring myself than her.

When clasped her hands suddenly, her eyes widened in surprise. "We are real Clary. But I need you to promise me that who I was won't make you change your moind about who I am. Promise me?"

Clary nodded quickly. "I promise Jace."

Leaning forward I kissed her hard on the forehead. "Stay here." I turned on my heel and moved to grab my jacket, phone and my wallet.

"Where are you going?"

I shot her a grin as I reached for the front door. "To talk to Alec."

**Once again I can't make any promises when I cill update next, but I will let you know that the next chapter will be a split POV between Clary and Jace, and I promise it will be entertaining :)**

**Let me know what you think guys and I promise I'll give you more.**

**And for those who are interested I have a couple of songs I was listening to while writing these that I think you should check out!**

- "The Story" by Brandi Carlile  
>- "Heavy Love" by Serena Ryder (love her!)<br>- "Heartbeat" by The Fray (Fav band ever!)  
>and<br>- "Medicine" by Daughter


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